Sought
by aquaesulis
Summary: SS/OC **COMPLETE** A chance encounter in an alleyway sends Charlotte Parnell on an adventure she could never have imagined.
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and his universe belong to JK Rowling, Charlotte belongs to me. I'm just here for the food. (Translation: don't sue me!)

Sought

(working title)

_I was stained, with a role, in a day not my own   
But as you walked into my life you showed what needed to be shown   
And I always knew, what was right I just didn't know that I might   
Peel away and choose to see with such a different sight_

_And I will never see the sky the same way and   
I will learn to say good-bye to yesterday and   
I will never cease to fly if held down and   
I will always reach too high cause I've seen, cause I've seen, twilight_

_-Vanessa Carlton, "Twilight"___

The autumn sun had just begun to sink below Oxford's dreaming spires when Charlotte Parnell shouldered her book bag and walked out of the library. She had spent the last two hours in the New Bodleian studying for her Latin exam. Latin was the last of the equivalency classes she needed before beginning her English Literature PhD. Charlotte had long since gotten over her initial irritation that Oxford had considered her two other degrees from reputable American universities Not Good Enough and even conceded that there was some merit in English scholars knowing Latin, but she had hoped that being a PhD candidate meant freedom from exams. _No such luck. At least this will bring my official language count to four, she thought, __five if you count American English. She felt relatively cheerful as she made her way slowly back to New College, her temporary home. Charlotte had been in Oxford nearly six months, even with the annoyance of the equivalency courses she would not have traded one moment for all the tea in China. _

Passing the Sheldonian, she turned on to New College Lane. Charlotte was nearly to the entrance of the college when someone crashed into her from behind. The force of the impact knocked her to her knees and sent her Latin text and practice manual flying. She looked up and saw a man in a black duster striding briskly away, as if nothing had happened. There was no one else on the street. Cursing under her breath about tourists, Charlotte picked her self up and gathered her books. Lying next to her practice manual was a parchment scroll with a dark red wax seal. The man must have dropped it when he ran into her.  _If he had bothered to stop he wouldn't have lost it. Charlotte thought of keeping it, it would make a cute souvenir, but her conscience got the better of her._

            "Hey, wait! I think you dropped this!

***

            Whoever he was he certainly moved quickly. She had jogged down New College, past where it turned into Queen's Lane and was almost to the High and hadn't seen him. If he had already made it to the High she had as good as lost him. She continued her trot down to High Street and scanned the thinning evening crowds for a tall man in a black duster to no avail. _Maybe he ducked into a side street, she thought, retracing her steps up Queen's Lane. As she turned back on to New College she saw two figures blocking her path. They were both wearing long black robes with the hoods drawn well over their faces and carrying slender objects that looked like batons or wands. She kept walking towards them, but they did not move._

            "Nice outfits, guys," she said, trying to keep her voice level, "but Halloween isn't for another month. If you'll excuse me, I need to get by." They did not move. One of them waved his stick and muttered something. Instantly Charlotte felt a searing heat course through her arm, as if someone had stuck a hot poker against her bicep. She looked down but saw nothing but the sleeve of her navy pea coat. Another muttered phrase and a wave of the wand and her legs slammed together, knocking her off balance for the second time that day. She fell backwards, hitting her tailbone, elbows and head all against the hard concrete.

            "That's enough," said the other figure. He had a smooth, silky voice, laced with malice.

            "Can't I have a little fun with the Muggle?" asked the mutterer, plaintively.

            "Later. Business first."  He took a step towards Charlotte, "I believe you have something I want, a paper scroll with a red wax seal. Be a good girl and give it to me."

            Charlotte shook her head. "You're not the man who dropped this. I think I'd better give it to him."

            "I assure you that it would be better off in my hands. Now, give it to me." His words were cold steel. Charlotte was suddenly very afraid. Her legs refused to come apart and her head was throbbing. This guy was bad news.

            "N-no, I don't think so."

            The figure sighed. "I tried to ask politely. You've forced me to use less pleasant means of persuasion." He raised his wand "_Imperio!"_

There was a voice at the back of Charlotte's head. _Give him the scroll; you don't need it, why do you want it? Give it to him. She had her had her hand halfway extended to him before she knew what was happening. She shook her head. __What am I doing? Charlotte tried to pull her hand back, but it felt like lead._

            "Stop it!" she cried, forcing her hand back to her side. _Give it to him, the voice insisted. "No, NO!" she screamed. The voice stopped and her arm went limp. The two figures were standing as though frozen, the silky one's wand in mid-air. Charlotte barely had time to register this fact before she lost consciousness._

***

            Charlotte awoke with a start. Where were the robed figures? Had they managed to get the scroll?

            A pair of gentle but firm hands pushed her back down. "It's alright dear, you're safe here," said a woman's voice. Charlotte rubbed her eyes and looked around. From the rows of white sheeted beds, she guessed she was in some kind of hospital. Three people were hovering over her bed; none of them looked much like doctors. 

            "Good morning, my dear," said the one in the middle. He was wearing embroidered purple robes and had long white hair, an equally long beard and a pair of twinkling blue eyes that made him look younger than he probably was. "How are you feeling?" That question made Charlotte think, and she realized that her arm was no longer on fire, and the nausea signaling her incipient concussion was gone. 

            "I'm fine, sir," she said, surprised, "a little tired, but other than that, fine."

            "Excellent! Allow me to make some introductions. I am Albus Dumbledore. This is Poppy Pomfrey," Madam Pomfrey was an older woman who had a bustling but kind look about her. "And I believe you have," he paused, "already encountered Severus Snape." Charlotte had not seen his face, and he had changed into black robes, but she recognized those shoulders as belonging to the man who had run into her earlier. Snape inclined his head slightly. He was tall and thin, with pale skin, a hook nose and lanky black hair. He looked decidedly less friendly than Pomfrey or Dumbledore.

            "Did you get your scroll?" Charlotte asked quickly, looking at Snape.

            He scowled down at her, "Yes." 

_If I had known you were going to be so appreciative, I would have given it to the druid rejects,__ Charlotte thought sourly. She turned back to Dumbledore, who was far more pleasing to look at. "I'm guessing I'm not at the University Med Center," she said slowly._

Dumbledore nodded, "We are some distance from Oxford, indeed. You are in the infirmary at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

Charlotte blinked, "'Witchcraft and Wizardry'? Well, that would certainly explain all the wand waving, although it does kind of set my notion of the universe on its ear." She scrubbed her face with her hands. "Magic…okay. I guess my next question should be: what am I doing here?"

"Severus returned to Queen Street to retrieve the scroll and found you unconscious. He thought it better to bring you here where Madam Pomfrey could exercise her considerable talent upon you than to leave you in the alley with your companions."

"What happened to them? They were trying to make me give them the scroll, it felt like one of them was inside my head making my arm work, and then all of a sudden they stopped."

The members of Hogwarts faculty exchanged glances. "We were rather hoping you could tell us what happened," said Dumbledore gently, "as I said, you were unconscious, but someone performed Stupefy upon them. You were the only one in the area and you have no knowledge of magic. Can you tell me exactly what happened before you lost consciousness?" 

"That voice in my head made me raise my arm to give the scroll to one of them…" she paused as Madam Pomfrey whispered, "Imperius!" "I managed to pull my arm back, but the voice kept insisting. I shouted," she flushed, "actually, more like screamed, "No!" and the voice stopped and…then I blacked out."

"I must say, you behaved quite bravely, Miss Parnell." Dumbledore said with a smile, "But there are two things in particular that interest us greatly. Firstly, that you were able to resist the Imperius curse, which is known as one of the Unforgivable Curses. Secondly, that you were able to cast Stupefy without the aid of a wand, or any training. Most impressive." He seemed to be thinking carefully about something. "Has anything of this nature ever happened to you before?"

"Do you mean the strange guys in robes waving wands at me, or the stupefy thing?" she paused, "When I was five I took the wrong bus home from school. I ended up in a field on the outskirts of town. I sat down and started to cry, the next thing I knew I heard my mom calling to me – I was no longer in the field but in my own backyard." She looked sheepish, "I was never very good with directions, I thought I had just gotten really confused."

Dumbledore seemed most pleased with this story, his blue eyes twinkled and he clapped his hands. "Wonderful! I believe you have the makings of a competent witch. Would you consider staying with us and learning more?"

"I don't know sir. I've got quite a lot of school work ahead of me at Oxford…"

"I can assure you that time spent at Hogwarts will only serve to improve your Latin," he smiled at some joke of his own. "But I believe there is a gravity to the situation that you do not appreciate. One of the men you fortuitously Stupefied has been known to carry a grudge. I do not believe it would be safe for you to return to Oxford at this time. At least let us give you the skills to protect yourself from him." He looked so earnest that Charlotte looked down at the white sheet to collect her thoughts. When she looked up again he was all good humored twinkling again.

"Okay, I'm in. When do we start?"

Dumbledore smiled at her. "Later. You need to rest, and Madam Pomfrey has long desired our absence. Sleep my dear, we will talk again soon."

***

Charlotte was lacing her sneakers when Dumbledore and Snape returned. She had awoken a few hours earlier and had been shown by Madam Pomfrey to a large bathroom where, among other things, she had the strangest and most enjoyable bath of her life. She could still smell the tangerine bubbles that had poured forth from gold taps on her skin and hair. The bath had also given her a chance to get her thoughts together. Magic, especially the kind that would protect her from robed weirdoes, was definitely more exciting than PhD work. But she didn't want to lose her place at University – she had worked too hard to get accepted to throw it away. She told Dumbledore as much when she saw him.

"Of course not. I have already spoken with my contacts at the university. You are, as of this morning, on sabbatical. Researching some arcane piece of information, I am told, and completely unreachable by telephone." He winked. "Your course of study will be supervised by Professor Snape and the details of it I will leave to his devising." That announcement was news to Snape and he eyed the Headmaster with displeasure. "You will soon learn that our students are quite adept at discovering anything unusual that takes place within these walls. I have almost given up keeping anything secret. Miss Parnell, have you had any teaching experience?"

The abrupt change of subject caught Charlotte off guard, "Um, yes sir. I taught an Intro English lab at both schools in the US and I have a small study group at Oxford."

"Excellent! Beginning after the Christmas holidays you will teach a special class on American Muggle Studies. It has been a long time since we had an American at Hogwarts, it should be most educational." The old wizard looked quite pleased with himself.

Charlotte was less certain about the advisability of her teaching a bunch of adolescent witches and wizards. "What's a Muggle?"

"Non-magical people. I have had rooms prepared for you in the teacher's wing. Madam Pomfrey will escort you there. I will also have someone come get you for meals – the castle can be a bit tricky to get around if you are not used to it." His eyes sparkled with mirth as he bid her good-bye

***

Severus Snape waited until the door to Dumbledore's office had shut before opening his mouth. "Headmaster, I must insist. My duties as head of Slytherin and Potions Master do not allow free time for the tutoring of young girls!"

"But Severus, you have such a gift for teaching," Dumbledore said with a smile and a twinkle, "I can think of no better person-"

"Spare me your flattery, Albus," interrupted Snape with an impatient wave of his hand.

"As you wish. You are the perfect choice to lead her studies because you are, after all, the one who – brought her to our attention."

Snape crossed his arms and bent his head. After a few moments of silence he replied, "Very well, Headmaster."

"Excellent. Before the end of the week you will need to take her to Diagon Alley to get what she needs." He cut off Snape's indignant protest by adding, "And see that she finds her way to the Great Hall for dinner."

***

Charlotte had never seen a place as wonderful, or as frighteningly confusing as Hogwarts. She envied Madam Pomfrey's ease as she led Charlotte up moving staircases, past portraits with very realistic subjects, and around ghosts. They had made their expedition while classes were in session, to avoid any unnecessary attention. Pomfrey stopped in front of a large painting of a girl under a starry sky.

"Password?" she/it asked, and Charlotte nearly jumped out of her skin.

"Mangel-wurzel," replied Madam Pomfrey and the portrait swung open, revealing an oval shaped hole in the wall behind it. "The teacher's rooms are all along this floor," Pomfrey said, leading her in, "students generally do not come up this way. Even if they did, they can't get in without the password." She pulled out her wand and with a wave a tray of sandwiches and juice appeared on a nearby table. "That should keep you satisfied until dinner. Have a rest until someone comes to collect you. I wouldn't go wandering around the castle on your own yet." With this word of warning she left Charlotte alone.

Charlotte looked down at the tray with trepidation, _how does wizard food taste? She took a nibble of a sandwich and found that it tasted like turkey sandwiches. She poured herself a glass of the dark orange-colored juice and surveyed her surroundings. _

            The room was divided into two sections, a spacious sitting room with an assortment of low tables, chairs, couches and a fireplace and a bedroom with a large four-poster bed and dresser. Everything was dark colors and rich woods. Wall sconces throughout the room gave it a cozy glow.  There was a door beside the dresser that led into another wonderful bathroom like the one in the infirmary. On her second sandwich she noticed a large trunk at the foot of the bed containing all her personal effects from her room at New College. _Studying at the library seems half a lifetime ago, she thought, unpacking her clothes and books. The addition of her stuffed hedgehog, Gilbert, and a few other pieces of "Muggle" bric-a-brac made the room feel more like home and less like an exotic hotel room. _

            Charlotte whiled away her afternoon reviewing her Latin and staring at the blank pages of her journal. _How do I possibly write about this? She wanted to go and explore more of the castle, but she remembered Madam Pomfrey and Dumbledore's warnings and stayed put. As the light through the window faded, Charlotte's thoughts turned to dinner. She presumed that a long sleeve shirt, jeans and sneakers would not be appropriate at any English boarding school, let alone one for aspiring witches and wizards. She hadn't brought much in the way of nice clothing with her to Oxford. After some experimentation she settled on a silver blouse, a long black skirt and her black calf boots. _

She was debating the makeup issue when a feminine voice called, "Miss Parnell, you have a visitor." It took Charlotte a moment to realize that the voice was that of the painting outside her room. She pushed open the door and saw Professor Snape, looking annoyed and holding a folded piece of black fabric under his arm.

"Professor Dumbledore asked me to escort you to dinner," he said, with thinly veiled displeasure. "He also wanted to give you this; it will make you less… conspicuous at dinner." He handed her the fabric, which turned out to be a black robe with the Hogwarts crest over the left breast. Now properly attired, she followed Snape out of her room, pausing to wave at the girl in the portrait who gave her a cheeky grin in return.

After about a staircase worth of silence, Charlotte plucked up her courage to say, "I'm sorry that my arrival has forced an extra student upon you."

He looked at her sharply and then replied, "No, I should apologize. If I had not dropped the scroll it would not have been necessary to bring you here."

She smiled, "Let's call it a wash then. I'm glad to be here, and I'm excited to learn about magic. I will try not to be a troublesome student." 

Snape looked down into her eager eyes and sighed, _I find that hard to believe. "We will hope for competency at least, for it is your life that will depend on what you learn." The sting of this sneering set-down was diminished by the beauty of the Great Hall, which they had entered as he spoke. It was a mammoth room, with candles suspended in mid air and a ceiling that looked like the night sky. Snape led her to a chair beside Dumbledore at the faculty table before taking his own seat further down. Charlotte smiled at the Headmaster and looked out at the four long tables beginning to fill with students. Some of them had already noticed a new figure at the head table and were speculating with their friends who she might be. The attention made Charlotte a little nervous. She was introduced to the other faculty members, who seemed to have been briefed on her true background._

Once the students were all seated, the witch sitting to Dumbledore's right –Charlotte thought her name was McGonagall – tapped on her glass for quiet. Dumbledore stood and smiled benignly out at the sea of faces. "I have some most exciting news this evening. I am pleased to introduce a new faculty member, Professor Charlotte Parnell." He motioned for Charlotte to stand and joined in the polite applause from the students. "Professor Parnell will be teaching a special class on American Muggle Studies after the Christmas holidays. It will be added to the schedules of those currently enrolled in Muggle Studies. Other interested parties should contact their Head of House. And now-" he waved his hand and the tables blossomed with platters of food. Conscious of the scrutiny of the students, Charlotte tried to mimic the behavior of the other professors, who took magically appearing food for granted. She helped herself to the platter of roast beef the Headmaster offered her before passing it along to Professor Sprout. 

            Charlotte enjoyed dinner more than she thought she would. The food was excellent, and she had a pleasant conversation with Professor Sprout about gardens in England and America. Gradually the students began filtering back to their dormitories; once they were all gone, the professors took their leave. 

A dark figure loomed at Charlotte's side – Professor Snape, looking impatient.  "I will escort you back to your room if you are ready, _Professor," he said with a sneer. Charlotte wondered what she could have possibly done to get on Snape's bad side. __Maybe he doesn't have a good side to get on. Without a word, she followed him out of the hall. Snape bid Charlotte goodnight outside her room and turned to go. _

"Wait," she said, taking a deep breath, "I wanted to thank you –"

"As I said before, Miss Parnell, no thanks are necessary," Snape interrupted.

"Hear me out. I wanted to thank you for saving my life. If I had still been on Queen's Lane when they came out of whatever I did to them, I'm positive I wouldn't be alive now. So, um, thanks. I owe you one."  Snape looked at her in mild surprise. "I believe the customary response is 'you're welcome'" Charlotte prompted. 

"You're welcome," he answered, and turned on his heel and walked off.

Charlotte turned to her portrait who had watched scene in interest. "Do you have a name?" 

The girl nodded, "Celeste"

"That's a pretty name. Tell me, Celeste, is he always like this?" she asked, nodding at Snape's retreating shape.

Celeste smiled, "yes."

Charlotte groaned – it was going to be a long autumn.

***

Severus Snape was, in most instances, a man of his word. He would teach the Parnell girl, as Dumbledore had asked, but he still thought Minerva or one of the other professors would be better suited to the job. He banged his fist on his desk. It was his fault that she had to be taught anything! If he had not dropped the scroll she would have continued in her little Muggle life unaware of the abilities she possessed. But since he had dropped the scroll, it really was unfair to leave her unprotected. _Lucius would back in Oxford in an instant, for the sheer sport of it. And that would be the end of Charlotte Parnell. He had arrived on the scene in Queen's Lane in time to hear Charlotte scream, had seen the two robed figures stiffen, and had seen the girl collapse. He approached the men from behind, closed their eyes and laid them on the ground. Any Muggle that went past would assume that they were drunks or vagrants. That done, he picked up the girl and Apparated. _

Snape folded his hands and thought. There was much to be done to make Miss Parnell a credible witch before she could return to her world. Indeed, there was much to be done before she began teaching classes next term. The students were quick to spot anything amiss at Hogwarts – one passing comment from Draco Malfoy would have his father in the headmaster's office within the hour. Charlotte was safe within the walls of the school, but her discovery could lead to serious problems for him and for the Ministry of Magic's efforts to bring down Voldemort. Should the Dark Lord learn who had carried that scroll from Oxford to Hogwarts…That _does not bear thinking about now, focus on the task at hand. _

            Charlotte was having trouble sleeping. There was too much to think about, too much had happened. She wanted to start learning how to be a witch immediately – but she was fairly confident that that Snape was the sort of teacher who expected you to be in your best form at all times, and a lack of sleep was not going to help her at all. She rolled over and tucked Gilbert under her arm. She was trying to remember some of the relaxing breathing techniques she had learned in college when she heard a strange noise, like something sliding across the floor. The wall sconces, which had put themselves out when she crawled into bed, lit the room in a dim glow. There was an envelope lying in the middle of the floor with "Miss Parnell" written in a firm, clear hand. Inside was a missive from Snape and a list of books. The letter informed her that he would be taking her to a place called Diagon Alley tomorrow to purchase materials for her studies. The books were a selection that he recommended she purchase or check out of the library. _Good thing I didn't have any plans for tomorrow, she thought sourly; the letter was little better than a command.  She set it down and crawled back into bed. __I wonder what Diagon Alley is. A wizard mall, perhaps?  Her head filled with the wonderful things a wizard mall might contain, she finally drifted off to sleep._


	2. Chapter 2

Charlotte would have liked to spend longer in the wonderful bathtub, but as Snape had not specified when they were leaving she thought it better to be ready than to keep him waiting. She chose a gray t-shirt, khaki pants, her forest green hooded sweatshirt and a pair of good walking shoes. Her hair wasn't long enough for a pony tail yet, so she pushed it behind her ears. She wasn't sure how far 50 pounds would get her with wizards, but she put her wallet in her back pocket anyway. All she had to do now was wait.

            "Charlotte, Professor Snape is here to see you." 

            "Thanks, Celeste, let him in please." Charlotte was suddenly a little nervous. The portrait swung open and the potions master swept in, looking less than pleased. 

            "Good morning Miss Parnell. Are you ready to depart?" Charlotte nodded and he pulled a small bag from the folds of his robe. "I have taken the liberty of having your fireplace temporarily added to the Floo Network. Floo powder is the simplest means for the both of us to get to Diagon Alley." Noting Charlotte's confusion, he added, "The Floo Network is a method of travel using fireplaces. You will take a handful of powder," he held up the bag, "Step into the fire and speak your destination."

            Charlotte looked at the cold hearth feeling a trifle stupid, "But Professor, there's no fire."

            Snape made an irritated noise and pulled out his wand, "_Incendio!" and suddenly there was a cheerful blaze. He opened the bag of Floo Powder. "Our destination is the Leaky Cauldron. Speak clearly and I suggest you keep you eyes closed."_

            Abashed and astonished by Snape's display of magic, Charlotte meekly did as she was bid. The fire turned a strange green color when she threw the powder on it, and when she stepped into the hearth she felt she was standing in a sauna or sunbathing on a beach. "The Leaky Cauldron!" she cried, and then the world began to spin. Charlotte remembered to shut her eyes after she felt soot hit her face. The spinning got faster and faster, like a teacup ride from hell. At the point she felt sure her brains were going to ooze out her ears (along with her breakfast), the world came to a full and complete stop. Her hands and face collided with something solid and cold. She was on her hands and knees; blind, dizzy, nauseous, and out of breath. There was a strong hand on her left hip and another circling her right wrist. Gently but firmly she was pulled to her feet and placed in a chair. 

            "Put your head between your legs," someone said. There was the sound of a chair being dragged across the floor. Charlotte bent over, trying to slow her breathing. Her eyes were watering, trying to get the soot out. Rubbing and blinking, she found she could see again. Snape was sitting across from her with something that might have been sympathy in his eyes. _He could almost be human when he isn't being a jerk. They were sitting in a small, dingy bar. This early in the morning there were few patrons, mostly clustered around the bar area where a bald older man was presiding over the taps. Charlotte straightened up experimentally and got little protest from her head and stomach. "How do you feel?" asked Snape._

            "Better," she replied, wiping her face with her sleeve to pick up any remaining soot.  "I think I'm ready to try standing up." That accomplished, she gestured for Snape to lead the way. He told her that Dumbledore had authorized him to procure a wand, robes and basic supplies, anything beyond that was her own responsibility. Charlotte was somehow not surprised to learn that wizards had their own money, but the goblin employees of Gringott's were another matter. She had to remind herself several times not to stare at them as she had her Muggle money exchanged for Knuts, Sickles, and Galleons. Diagon Alley was just that, a narrow street filled with small shops. Charlotte would have liked to examine each one closely, but from the bank Snape took her directly to a shop called Ollivander's. "Makers of fine wands since 382 BC," the sign read. Inside the shop, the walls were lined from floor to ceiling with slender boxes. An old man stood behind the counter.

            "Miss Parnell, I've been expecting you," he said as they walked in. He took out a tape measure which began measuring various parts of Charlotte's body. While the tape measure worked, the man went to his stacks and pulled out a box. "Oak, dragon heartstring, 7 3/4 inches," he said, handing her a wand. "Give it a wave!" Charlotte moved her arm awkwardly and the man snatched the wand back. "How about this: willow, unicorn hair, 10 inches." Charlotte tried again and a rush of brightly colored sparks issued forth from the tip. "Well done, Miss Parnell." The wand was placed back in the box. "I will send this to Hogwarts this afternoon. Good day Miss Parnell, Professor Snape."  

***

            The trip to Diagon Alley with Charlotte was less unpleasant than Snape had expected, mostly due to the fact that Charlotte was too in awe of everything around her (and suffering the lingering effects of traveling by Floo) to cause any trouble. He confessed to feeling a pang of envy in Ollivander's shop, watching the girl's face light up when she waved her wand. It was rare that he got to see anything resembling that excitement for magic. Most of his students were either too scared of him or too familiar with the wizarding world to be thrilled by a simple potion or wave of the wand. Most students would gladly forgo Potions, he wondered if McGonagall or Flitwick saw more interest in their classes.

            With tolerable equanimity he watched Charlotte try on robes at Madam Malkin's. She finally selected a set of iridescent sapphire blue shot with silver threads, "They bring out the color of your eyes, love," said Madam Malkin, hemming the bottom as Charlotte examined herself in the mirror. Charlotte blushed and spent the rest of their time in the shop staring at the floor. They bought quills, paper and a cauldron and then went into Flourish and Botts so she could buy books. She had enough money for everything on Snape's list, plus _Hogwarts: a History and __Recent Developments in Muggle Studies. She explained the last by saying, "I'm supposed to be teaching a class on this stuff, I should at least know what's going on in the field." Their shopping complete they returned to the Leaky Cauldron. Charlotte eyed the fireplace with distaste_

            "Do we have to go back that way?" she asked.

            "Yes," he replied, not unkindly. "It should be easier now that you know what to expect."

            A few moments later they were back in Charlotte's room. She was dizzy and disoriented but nowhere near as bad as the first time.

            "Your packages should be arriving by owl this afternoon. We will speak again later about your course of study," Snape said, after ascertaining that she was not going to fall over. He was out the portrait hole before Charlotte could ask what 'arriving by owl' meant.

***

            September slid resolutely into October; the air became cool and crisp and all of Hogwarts went Quidditch-mad. The buzz had started once the house teams were announced, but had risen to a fever pitch with the first game only a few weeks away. Charlotte had checked _Quidditch Through the Ages out of the library and found herself anticipating the game as much as some of the students. Once she had adjusted to the concept of magic, witches and wizards, it actually did not take Charlotte very long to settle into a routine at Hogwarts. Mornings were spent reading and researching in the library. She divided her time between preparing for her coming class and completing the assignments Snape gave her. After lunch was her free time, when she had her weekly chat with Dumbledore, socialized with the other professors or strolled the school grounds. In the late afternoon, she traveled down to the dungeons to meet with the potions master. It was Charlotte who had insisted on this arrangement. "I'm used to having a class; I'd like to have someone around who understands this stuff when I'm waving my wand around." Some days she simply sat in the potions classroom and read while Snape graded assignments and prepared lessons for his younger students. Other days she attempted to transfigure charm, boil or otherwise maim innocent objects. Charlotte was reluctant to admit it, but it was obvious that most of her skill lay in potions. She quietly felt that it would have been cooler to be good at a more overtly magical thing, but potions were the thing she most identified with. __Because potions have the most in common with Muggle science, she decided, also very quietly. She likened it to chemistry or cooking, it was concrete and tangible. Unfortunately, Snape was in his most domineering mood when she was working with potions. Nothing was ever good enough for him, and Charlotte was annoyed to find that mattered to her. She was his pupil, she wanted him to be proud of her accomplishments, but all he ever saw were her faults. The evenings she had questioned her reading, or asked him to explain some element of the wizarding world she had seen how intelligent he was, the sheer amount of knowledge he possessed. Intelligence was a trait she admired, a trait she understood and respected. And she respected Snape; she just wished he would loosen up about potion making._

            As the weeks passed, Charlotte's skills improved. Her pincushions no longer snuffled like hedgehogs and she had mastered the more basic charms. She went through a period of locking herself into anything and everything she could find that had a lock, just to practice saying "_Alohamora!"  Until Snape told her to stop behaving like a foolish first-year. _

            "Don't you understand the concept of fun?" Charlotte asked.

            "I would hardly think 'fun' applies in this instance. You are supposed to be learning the skills to protect you once you return to Oxford."

            "Tell me, which do you think will frighten my adversaries more, finely chopping and boiling them or turning them into toadstools?" Charlotte's tone was acid.

            "Your extensive Muggle education has apparently not endowed you with any common sense. Did you think you could simply wave your wand and be able to cast one of the Unforgivables?          We have a concept known as 'hard work,' Miss Parnell; perhaps Muggles have not invented a machine to duplicate it." Snape ignored her spluttered protest. "You are learning the basic principles by which magic operates, only once you have mastered those can you hope to tackle more advanced subject material. I suggest you return to your room and review your lessons, we are done for the day." He sat at his desk and resumed grading papers, not so much a batting an eye as Charlotte angrily gathered her books and slammed the classroom door behind her.

            _How dare he! Charlotte seethed as she negotiated her way back up to the teacher's wing. "Mangel-wurzel!" she spat, stomping into her room. "I don't know the meaning of hard work? Honestly, master's degrees do not wish themselves into being!" She dropped her books at her desk and paced the floor._

            "Something wrong, Charlotte?" asked Celeste.

            "Where does he get off calling me lazy? And telling me I have no common sense? And calling me a stupid first-year?" Charlotte yelled in the direction of the portrait

            "Let me guess, another fun day with Professor Snape."

            "He got mad at me for practicing the Alohamora charm."

            "Did you lock yourself in a trunk again? Snape isn't much on frivolity."

            "So I've noticed," Charlotte muttered dryly, "I don't want to spend all my time worrying about those creeps who attacked me. I haven't even learned anything to fight them, really. You can still wave your wand in a leg-locker."

            "I'm not much for magic myself, but I've been around a fair number of wizards, and I've been under the impression that you've got to start with the basics to understand how to combat the Unforgivables and fight Death Eaters."

            "You sound just like Snape," she sighed. "I can't stay here forever. Someday soon I have to go back to Oxford, start my degree. I don't have the time to spend seven years at Hogwarts learning all the ins and outs of magic. I don't think I could take seven years of being lorded over by Snape anyway. I feel sorry for his students. I imagine he's perfectly frightening to a ten year old."

            "But you're not scared of him?"

            "Celeste, I haven't been ten for a long time. Besides, I survived having Mrs. Mansfield in fourth grade, Snape pales in comparison. He can be mean and nasty, insulting and infuriating, but not scary. Maybe I feel that way because he's not giving me a grade, he has absolutely no control over my future, unlike Mrs. Mansfield. I don't think I'm going to see him tomorrow. I shouldn't have gotten so angry, shouldn't let him goad me. But really, not all Muggles are lazy. I'm going to have to do some damage control next semester; our PR is really in the tubes."

***

            Charlotte didn't report to the dungeons the next day, nor did Snape send for her. The idea of a few moments to himself in his own classroom was novel. He attempted to grade some papers, but he was having difficulty concentrating. Glaring into an unusually empty section of the classroom he realized why, it was too quiet. As a man who preferred solitude, he found this discovery highly irksome. When she wasn't busy behaving like a child, Charlotte Parnell was actually a very intelligent young woman. She had made a good deal of progress in the last few weeks and managed to retain her initial enthusiasm for the subject. She always had a question for him, on his less charitable days he compared her to the Gryffindor know-it-all, Hermione Grainger. The problem with Miss Parnell was that she wasn't an impressionable first-year. Not only did she have questions, she questioned the answers he gave. Her tenacity was both amazing and exasperating. He had told her so one night after answering a barrage of questions on the Ministry of Magic, house elves and flying carpets. 

            "Don't you see? I'm making up for lost time. When I got to college I already knew plenty about languages, history, math and science. Those subjects weren't new to me anymore. A month ago I knew nothing about magic, except from fairy stories. I'm just trying to make the most of my so-called sabbatical," she shrugged, "I just like to learn stuff." _Very Hermione Grainger, he snorted.  But the room seemed vacant without her. With a growl of annoyance he threw down his quill and stalked out of the classroom, hoping that terrorizing some hapless students would serve to improve his mood.  _

            The day after her missed lesson, Charlotte joined the rest of the school around the quidditch pitch for the first match of the season. She watched the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor players swoop around the field in warm-up through binoculars Professor McGonagall had kindly lent her.  A familiar shadow loomed over her seat

            "Professor," she said coolly, not taking her eyes away from the pitch. 

"Professor," he answered, matching her tone. When he sat down next to her, she put down the binoculars to look at him in surprise.  "I am surprised to see you here; I had presumed you returned to Oxford."

"Did you? One afternoon of sneering insults will not send me running, Professor. You're going to have to do better than that to scare me."

"And your failure to show up in the classroom yesterday can be attributed to-?" he left the sentence hanging.

Charlotte flushed slightly but held her ground. "I thought it better to devote my attention to other directions. If everyone in the wizarding world has the same low opinion of Muggles as you, I have a lot of work to do next semester."

He smiled, but it was not a nice one, "Rest assured, Miss Parnell, that there are those who give Muggles far less credit than I do." Charlotte could not fully suppress her shudder and immediately directed her attention to repositioning her red and white New College scarf around her neck. "I trust there will be no barrier to your future attendance at our session?"

"No, of course not—I've got to show you there's at least one Muggle out there isn't lazy."

He looked at her in some surprise. "You stopped being a Muggle the moment you picked up your wand."

She blinked and a slow smile spread across her features. "I'll take that as a compliment, Professor," she said, returning her focus to the quidditch pitch.

***

The day after Gryffindor's crushing defeat of Ravenclaw, lead by star seeker Harry Potter, Charlotte went to see Professor Dumbledore. She had been reading a recent history of the wizarding world and it had unnerved her greatly. She wanted Dumbledore to reassure her, to tell her the business with the Dark Lord really wasn't as bad as it sounded. As she was coming down the staircase, she saw a man headed up. He was slender with white-blond hair and a pale face. He caught sight of her and she watched some unidentifiable emotion play over his face before being submerged under an impassive exterior. 

"Good morning," he said in a voice of polished steel, meeting her in front of Dumbledore's office. 

"Can I help you?"

"Unlikely. I have an appointment with Headmaster Dumbledore. He has already been alerted to my arrival."

His tone immediately put Charlotte on the defensive. "How nice for you." Inwardly she resigned herself to sitting in the library until Dumbledore was free. She made a move to go past him down the staircase but he stopped her with a hand.

"You're American."

"Last time I checked, yes."

"You must be the new Muggle Studies professor my son spoke of. Dumbledore continues to waste time and money on classes of no value whatsoever." The last part he said almost to himself. 

"You think Muggle Studies are worthless?" Charlotte asked

"Certainly. Surely as a member of the wizarding community you realize how beneath them it is for students to study the activities of Muggles." He smiled frostily.

Charlotte drew herself up to her full height. "In America we have a greater understanding of Muggles than I have seen in Europe, their way of life is something that all wizards and witches should understand." She hoped that perspective was supported by the American community; it was certainly how she felt.

The man shook his head. "How unsurprising, Albus hiring another Muggle-lover. Do not think that your American passport will protect you from the Dark Lord. He does not care about nationality, only about purity of blood and spirit." He was only inches away from her, with a look of such malice on his face that Charlotte tensed up, ready to be hit.

From behind her a mercifully familiar voice said, "Lucius, the Headmaster will see you now." Snape stood at the office door, glowering. 

Lucius backed away from Charlotte and smoothed out his robes. "Thank you Severus," he replied, his face a mask of benign superiority. With one last appraising look of Charlotte he strode into the office.

Snape waited until the portrait had closed behind Lucius before swooping down on Charlotte. He grabbed her by the wrist and hissed, "You little fool! What were you thinking?" Faced with the unexpected force of Snape's wrath, Charlotte could only stammer. "Have you any idea who that was?" At Charlotte's frightened shake of her head he squeezed her wrist, "Think Miss Parnell!" Charlotte looked in the direction Lucius had gone, remembering what he had said to her. And then she realized – it was that voice of cold steel that had confronted her that day in Queen's Lane; that voice that had used one of the Unforgivable curses on her.

"Oh my God," she breathed, and her knees buckled. Snape put his arm around her waist and kept her from completely collapsing. 

"Miss Parnell-," he began, "Charlotte, now is not the time. You are safe at Hogwarts. Lucius can do nothing to you while you are within these walls." Charlotte nodded dumbly. The potions master looked down at her and sighed. "We'd better get you off these stairs before any students see you in this less than professional position."


	3. Chapter 3

The next thing Charlotte knew, she back in her room, curled up in a chair watching Snape make tea. Where he had conjured a teapot from she didn't know, but she focused on his movements rather than do any serious thinking about anything. He handed her a mug and she cradled it in her hands, letting the steam curl around her face and breathing in the scent of water vapor and tea leaves. She was conscious of Snape sitting across from her, slowly sipping from his own mug. 

"Who is he?" she asked, finally

"Lucius Malfoy, member of one of the oldest wizarding families in Britain – and believe me, no one is more aware of that fact than he is."

 Charlotte snorted, "What was he doing here?"

"He had a meeting with Dumbledore," Snape answered, frowning, "It is not my place to enquire into the Headmaster's daily schedule. Malfoy does have a son enrolled here and he was at one time on the Hogwarts Board of Governors. Don't look so surprised," he said, taking a sip of tea, "Malfoy is a man of considerable influence with enough wealth for many to overlook his supposed allegiances."

"Nice to see that money and power can buy anything in this world as well," Charlotte sneered slightly. "But what 'supposed allegiances'? Was he a supporter of Vol-Voldemort?"

"After Voldemort's fall, Malfoy returned to the fold saying he had been under a spell." Snape paused, "It is widely suspected but not generally known that he has returned to the Dark Lord's side."

"I'd say his penchant for cloaks and harassing innocent Muggles would be a good indication of that."

Snape's mouth twitched briefly into something like a smirk, "Indeed."

"But how did you know it was Malfoy who attacked me?"

Her companion's whole body stiffened. "I have my resources," he replied shortly.

"Whoa, defensive much? It's just a simple question."

The Potions Master growled, "You know nothing of the matter, Miss Parnell."

"Of course, how could I? I'm counting on my tutor to fill me in." Snape made no reply, choosing instead to glower into his tea cup. "I don't know anything about it, not really. I wasn't there." She continued in a softer tone, realizing Snape was not going to comment. "But I've read everything in the library and the Headmaster has told me a little. For what it's worth, I'm sorry. It must have been an awful time. I'm scared, frankly, without ay reason to be. Although, I doubt Voldemort will take the same view of my Muggleness as you do," she said with a brief smile. "Now that I know the guy who's probably gunning for me is an influential elitist who just happens to be a Death Eater, I'm really frightened. I need someone to reassure me, unfortunately that task falls to you."

Snape sighed, "No one should look to me for reassurance, especially not when it comes to Voldemort." He stared darkly into the empty grate. Charlotte was about to change the subject when he began to speak again.

"It does not look good for those who stand against the Dark Lord. Voldemort has returned to full strength and called his followers to him. The Ministry doubts he can be as dangerous as fifteen years ago, but they are wrong. His madness and cruelty have only increased. He has begun culling his own people, killing those who did not respond to his summons or those who betrayed him," Snape said tonelessly. "Once he has completed that task he will move on to the Muggle-born and those who opposed his first rise."

"That's it? We just stand in line and wait for Voldemort to get us? Is there no hope?"

"While Harry Potter and his cohorts have managed to circumvent Voldemort's plans in the past, I find it unlikely that a trio of teenagers is a match for the Dark Lord at full strength."

"Please Professor; do attempt to reign in your optimism." She shivered violently, nearly spilling her tea. Charlotte wrapped her robes tightly around her, suddenly cold in the cozy room. 

The Potions Master set down his cup and stood. "I should return to the dungeon, I have a great deal of work to do."

Charlotte looked up at him and nodded, "Of course," she said bracingly, "Thank you for – well, for everything."

Snape turned back at the portrait hole and looked at the girl curled in the large armchair trying to be brave. "Do you know," he began, conversationally, "there was only one man they said Voldemort was truly afraid of?" Charlotte shook her head. "His name is Albus Dumbledore. And, as much as it is wasted on some of us, he cares for everyone at this school like his own family." With a half bow, he was gone. 

***

In mid-November, Snape decided to teach Charlotte some basic dueling skills, which ended in Charlotte being rushed to Madam Pomfrey with a broken wrist. Relations between the two were quite cool until one evening Snape asked a mundane question about Muggle science that led to a discussion of the difference between American and English educational systems that led to Charlotte discovering, in the middle of a story about her crazy alcoholic chemistry teacher, that she was no longer out of charity with her tutor. In a swift chain of thought she realized what he had done, drawing her into conversation on a topic that he knew she had strong feelings about. She was rather touched that he wanted her not to be annoyed with him anymore, although, knowing him it was for some practical reason like it being easier to make potion when the person chopping the ingredients wasn't taking her aggression out on the hapless plants. She didn't mind, it was more fun to argue and debate with him then to seethe in a corner. Besides, it wasn't like he had done any lasting damage, or that it had really been his fault. It was her pride that was hurt more than anything. Maybe later she'd ask for a rematch.

One morning in early December, Charlotte emerged from her room to a chorus of suits of armor singing 'Gaudete'. Too late, she remembered Dumbledore's innocent question about her favorite Christmas carol. She could only hope that the carolers would be confined to the teachers' wing and not serenade her all the way down to the Great Hall. _Thank Merlin I didn't say Santa Claus is Coming to Town or something equally offensive. The fall term was coming to a close and the whole of Hogwarts was in good spirits. A few days earlier, Hagrid had dragged impossibly large pine trees into the Hall and the faculty (one scowling Potions Master excepted) had spent the evening decorating them. Charlotte had managed to make a credible showing levitating ornaments with Professor Flitwick but spent most of the evening stringing popcorn garlands with Professor Sprout by hand. She was looking forward to the peace and quiet of the Christmas holidays, but every day of vacation brought the new semester and American Muggle Studies closer. The lesson plans were set; it was keeping up the ruse of being a trained witch that she was worried about.  The other problem was that once the term started, she would be stuck there until at least the summer. Someday she was going to have to go back to Oxford, but both Snape and Dumbledore were very vague about when that day might be. Having met Lucius without his robes, Charlotte wasn't really in any rush to escape the protection of Hogwarts. At the same time, she couldn't hide from the specter of Malfoy and Voldemort forever. _

Conspicuously absent from the companionable faculty gathering was Professor Snape. Charlotte hadn't really expected to see him. His muttered comments at faculty meetings made his feelings abundantly clear; as much as he respected Dumbledore, he was not going to kowtow to the Headmaster's idea of fun. Charlotte reminded herself again to sit away from Snape at the next meeting. She had no desire to be on the receiving end of Dumbledore's less than beatific stares for snickering in the middle of Sybill Trelawney's monologue on the position of the stars.

At last trunks were packed, good-byes said and the train boarded. The looming threat of Voldemort had prompted most families to call their children home for the holidays, only a handful remained at Hogwarts. Besides the habitual presence of Potter and the Weasleys from Gryffindor there were also two first year Hufflepuffs and three Ravenclaws. The children condensed down to one table for meals. The atmosphere was far more relaxed and comfortable than in the bustle of term time. Charlotte only got to partake of this atmosphere at meal times; the rest of the day had altered very little with the holidays. She still saw Snape every afternoon for her lessons, still spent most of the day in the library. She was studying for her Apparition license. Snape had suggested it after another unsuccessful duel. "If you do not have the presence of mind to use a simple counter-curse, I would advise you to Apparate everywhere – he can't kill what he can't catch." Charlotte wryly wondered if Snape had hoped the description of splinching in _Apparition for Squibs would put the fear of God in her and improve her dueling technique. _

Snape didn't seem to believe in holidays, and Charlotte didn't exactly have a full social calendar, so she duly traveled down to the dungeons on Christmas Eve. The classroom was empty so she went further down the hallway to Snape's rooms. The door was closed, which was not unusual. She hesitated before knocking; it wasn't like him to forget about things. Perhaps he had decided to show some last minute holiday cheer and cancel their meeting. _Unlikely, she snorted and rapped on the door. Within moments it was flung open and a disheveled Snape stood before her. He didn't look well; he was more sallow than usual, as if he hadn't slept or eaten in a week – which she knew wasn't the case because she had seen him do at least one of those things yesterday. He was clutching his left arm as though it were going to come off at any minute. He looked at her in surprise, like he had forgotten her very existence._

"Ah, Miss Parnell," he said slowly, "I should have notified you earlier. Our meeting is not possible today; I have some other business to take care of. I trust you will use this time to your advantage.

Charlotte rolled her eyes, always the professor. "Yeah, whatever. Hey, are you alright? You look awful!"

Snape's face curled into a sneer. "Thank you for that assessment, Miss Parnell. Rest assured I am fine. Now, if you will excuse me – ". And Charlotte was nose to nose with the wooden door again. Something was fishy. Behind that unpleasant front he had been anxious, afraid even. Anything that could frighten the redoubtable Severus Snape was serious indeed. She dropped a discrete word in the Headmaster's ear at dinner when the head of Slytherin did not appear. 

But Dumbledore simply patted her on the shoulder and chuckled. "Severus is not terribly fond of this time of year. I believe he is planning to visit his parents in a few days. If you knew them, you would be concerned too." Charlotte smiled appreciatively and resumed eating, but she was not convinced. Something was definitely up, and she was going to find out what.

***

"Charlotte? Charlotte!" Someone was hissing her name.

"Wha-?" she sat up and blearily rubbed her eyes. Judging from the window, it had to be the middle of the night.

"Charlotte, wake up!" the voice said again. After a moment of staring at her bedposts she realized that it was Celeste who was calling to her.

"What? I'm awake, I'm awake!"

"You told me to let you know if I saw anything interesting." 

Charlotte scrubbed her face with her hands. "And?"

"I just saw Professor McGonagall run down the hall to Madam Pomfrey's room and then they both went in the direction of the infirmary. They looked pretty serious." Charlotte threw her black Hogwarts robe over her pajamas, put on her thick soled slippers and grabbed her wand, just in case. Her striped pajama pants peeked through the folds of the robe, but she figured she was decent enough for public consumption. 

"Thanks Celeste, I'll let you know what's up."

Hogwarts after hours was a far different place, dark and almost sinister. A muttered _Lumos solved one problem; the other could only be alleviated by moving as fast as possible through the quiet corridors. She paused at the door of the infirmary and looked inside. There was a small knot of people clustered around a bed, among them Dumbledore, McGonagall and Pomfrey, all looking very concerned. Charlotte tried to get a look at whom or what was on the bed, but she was too far away. At that point the Headmaster turned around. He didn't look surprised to see her, although she had been doing her best to be stealthy. The old wizard motioned for her to join the group around the bed. Charlotte moved slowly, afraid of what she might find laying there. The circle parted to admit her and Charlotte had to cover her mouth to keep from crying out. It was Snape, as white as the sheets he lay on, feverish and trembling uncontrollably._

"What happened?" she whispered from behind her hands.

"Severus is suffering the lingering effects of prolonged exposure to the Cruciatus curse," Dumbledore replied. He sounded very weary. 

"Is he – will he be alright?"

"I've given him something for the pain," said Poppy briskly, taking his pulse. She had removed his robes for ease of examining him, leaving him in a black short sleeve shirt and trousers. "He's been through worse, I'm confident he will pull through."

"What did this to him?" It made her sick to see her unflappable professor reduced to this state. She knew if he were conscious he would be highly perturbed to see all these people witnessing a display of weakness, however deserved, from him.

Poppy angrily pointed to his left forearm. "That did!" The image of a skull with a snake coming from its mouth was seared in black on the pale skin, like no tattoo Charlotte had ever seen.

"It is the Dark Mark," Dumbledore said, before she could ask, "Worn by all of Voldemort's followers and his means of communicating with them."

"Snape's a Death Eater?" Charlotte cried, backing up a step.

"No," Dumbledore took her firmly by the arm, "He was at one point an ally of the Dark Lord, but for many years now he has worked to fight Voldemort. Since his rise, Severus has taken on the perilous task of serving as a double agent, risking his life to bring us information on the movements of Voldemort and the Death Eaters." He looked around and said, in a far brighter tone, "Poppy has assured us of Severus' safety, let us leave her to her work. Sirius, can I offer you a cup of tea?" He led a man with long black hair out of the infirmary and the others followed suit. Charlotte remained riveted to the ground, unable to look away from the bed.

"Hurry along dear, get some rest," said Pomfrey.

"I'm not tired. Isn't there anything I can do to help? Anything?" Charlotte pleaded. 

The mediwitch gave her an appraising look and finally nodded. "I usually apply a cold herbal compress to his forehead; it seems to help with the fever. I'll be just at the other end of the room, getting some Pepper-Up and chocolate ready for when he wakes up. Call for me if anything changes." Wondering how chocolate could possibly help Snape, Charlotte accepted the bowl and cloth she was handed and summoned a chair to the side of the bed. The cold water was fragrant with herbs she had read of in her herbology text, some she had even used in potions. Applying the damp cloth to Snape's hot face did seem to calm him a little. She settled into a pattern: dip, wring, forehead, cheeks, neck, repeat. She focused her mental energy on analyzing the contents of the water rather than do any serious thinking. _White willow bark to break the fever, maybe passion flower for the muscle spasms. Dip, wring, repeat. Madam Pomfrey had said something, "He's been through worse." How long had he been doing this? Why did Dumbledore continue to allow him to go off to meet with Death Eaters when he came back like this? She pushed an errant strand of hair away from his forehead. __Poppy said he was going to be okay, she reminded herself. The thought of Snape dying brought a sudden, unexpected lump to her throat and a prickly sensation to the backs of her eyes. She shook her head and focused on the compress. Forehead, cheeks, neck. Gradually the tremors subsided and the fever broke. Charlotte noticed that the angry dark mark had also disappeared without a trace. The sky shifted from black to purple to blue. Madam Pomfrey had brought her a cup of tea which now sat empty by her chair. At last Snape began to stir, and with a stifled groan he opened his eyes. His brows furrowed in confusion as he focused on her._

"Charlotte?" his voice was raspy and hoarse. 

"Yes, it's me," she answered, taking his hand. "You're safe, you're in the Infirmary." She tried to sound reassuring, not knowing much about medicine, especially of the magical variety.

"How long-?"

"They brought you in around two in the morning, I believe. It's about eight or so now."

"Have you been here the whole time?"

Charlotte nodded. "I wanted to help," she hoped that didn't sound too lame. 

"He hasn't forgotten about you." She didn't have to ask who. They had all rather hoped that Malfoy would be too distracted by other matters to still be thinking about the encounter in Queen's Lane._ I am safe at Hogwarts, she told herself, and took a deep breath._

"We'll worry about that later," she said bravely. "Shall I fetch Madam Pomfrey?"

He shook his head. "I haven't the strength for the Pepper-up or her bedside manner."

"That sounds like the Professor I know," she grinned. "I'll let you rest." 

His long fingers tightened around her hand. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." He made no move to withdraw his hand and she made no move to get up. Having spoken to Snape had finally reassured her that he really was going to be alright and she suddenly realized how tired she was. Once Snape had fallen asleep again, Charlotte drifted in and out of wakefulness until Poppy finally threw her out with the threat that if she didn't get some sleep, the mediwitch would confine her to a cot and make her sleep. As she was returning to her room, she passed the young Ravenclaws going down to breakfast. "Happy Christmas!" they said, waving to her. She had completely forgotten what day it was, but on entering her room she saw that someone had evidently not forgotten about her. There was a pile of presents waiting for her by the fireplace. She decided to postpone bed just a little longer. As she unwrapped the parcels she told Celeste what she had seen. Somehow, the presents from her family had found their way to her, mostly money from her parents. Not that it would do her much good right now – but maybe Snape would take her to Diagon Alley when he was feeling better. She wondered how much money one needed to get a vault at Gringott's. _What do I need one of those for? She said as much to Celeste._

"Charlotte, I think you're missing something here. Being a witch isn't a thing you can just turn off. You may not have seven years at Hogwarts behind you, but you are still a witch – you will always be one, even if you go back to America and spend the rest of your life teaching at university. This doesn't end when you escape Malfoy."

Charlotte stared down at the box of chocolate frogs she had received from Professor Flitwick. She hadn't really thought about life after Hogwarts. It was true that somewhere down the line she still saw herself teaching somewhere –in a non-magical environment. Having discovered this world, she realized, she didn't want to give it up. Could she really go back to a place where magic was a fairy story? "Now is not the time to be reevaluating my career goals," she announced.

Celeste laughed, "Probably not, but you're going to have to figure it out sometime. So, finish opening your loot!" Professor Sprout gave her a painting of the Oxford Botanical Garden. A breeze seemed to be blowing in the garden, causing the plants to sway back and forth. It was easily one of the most beautiful things she had ever seen and she set it aside carefully before opening her last present, a pair of binoculars suitable for watching quidditch from Professor McGonagall. Of the faculty, only two people were absent from the gift line-up – Dumbledore and Snape. She didn't mind at all, she hadn't expected anything, in fact she was feeling rather guilty for not giving any presents, she hoped her fellow faculty members would understand. She resolved to write thank-you notes to make her mother proud – right after a desperately needed nap.

***

"Charlotte? Charlotte!"

She sprang out of bed, instantly wide awake "What is it? Has something happened?"

Celeste was laughing at her, "Relax! I was told to make sure you didn't miss the Christmas Feast. From what I've heard, Dumbledore puts on a great party." Despite her uncharitable thoughts towards portraits with skewed ideas of humor, Charlotte had to concede that Celeste was right. The Great Hall sparkled and the tables were piled high with every kind of food. Snape's usual chair at the end of the table was empty, but a word with Madam Pomfrey assured Charlotte that the Potions Master was in fact resting in his rooms. It was a wonderful feast; the food was excellent and the Christmas crackers amazing, but Charlotte's mind kept drifting elsewhere, bouncing from topic to topic, trains of thought that kept returning to the pallid figure in the infirmary.

Once the students had crammed in all the food they could hold they returned to their common rooms. Dumbledore suggested the faculty remove to the staff room for a post-dinner drink. A tea service, a crackling fire and Professor Snape were waiting for them in the lounge. Charlotte felt suddenly awkward, for reasons she couldn't quite explain. She stood lamely in the doorway until Dumbledore gently directed her to a seat in an overstuffed chair across the fire from Snape. While Minerva poured everyone tea, Dumbledore walked over to a table with a well-worn pointed hat on top of it. 

"Happy Christmas to all of you," he said into the expectant silence. "I am so pleased to have so many friends around me during the holiday season. May the coming year bring us all peace." He gazed ruminatively into his cup, took a sip and then smiled. "I do have one last gift to discharge, if you all will indulge me. You are all aware of Charlotte's circumstances, I for one am most impressed with the progress she had made in the past term, no doubt due in part to Severus' fine tutoring job," he added, nodding to the potions master glowering by the fire, "Although she did not have a chance to attend a wizarding school as a child –for which I have yet to receive a satisfactory answer from Salem – I would like to make her an honorary member of her appropriate House." Applause from the faculty followed this announcement and Dumbledore approached Charlotte with the beat up hat. He placed it on top of her head and it promptly sank down over her ears. There was a noise like someone or something humming and then a voice cried "Ravenclaw!" 

The headmaster took away the hat and gave her a brown paper parcel. "Happy Christmas, Charlotte, I know you will be a credit to your House," he said with a twinkle. Inside the parcel was a scarf in the Ravenclaw blue and bronze. Charlotte put it on instantly and flung her arms around Dumbledore

"Thank you so much, sir, I don't deserve this."

"Nonsense, my dear! I only wish that you could have had the chance to attend a school at the appropriate time. For all their virtues, my American counterparts are shockingly unorganized." Professor Flitwick stood on his chair to give her a whiskery kiss on the cheek. He was thrilled to have an American in his House "the first one ever, if I remember correctly," he squeaked. They agreed to get together in the New Year to talk about the history of Ravenclaw. There was only one person missing from the group congratulating her, she excused herself and went to join the dour Potions Master by the fire.

"Hey," she said, not sure what to say. She wanted to touch his hair, or take his hand as she had last night. Resolutely quashing the mental images that suddenly raced through her mind, she plowed ahead. "How are you feeling?"

It was a relief to see him look awkward for the barest moment. "I am fine, thank you." His acerbic tone was in full force, but his voice was still raspy.  

Charlotte sat on the rug in front of him. He didn't tell her to leave, which she took as a positive sign. "So, what do you think?" she asked, fingering her scarf.

"It is a perfectly serviceable scarf."

She made a face, "Not that, me being a Ravenclaw – albeit an honorary one. Are you disappointed? Can we still be friends?" she asked, wondering if he thought of her as her friend.

"Disappointment is not a concern. I certainly never entertained thoughts of you being sorted into Slytherin – you possess very few of the traits we are known for. I suppose it is some relief that you are not a Gryffindor; fortunately your intelligence seems to outweigh your foolhardiness. I see no reason why you being a Ravenclaw should change anything."

Charlotte grinned. "Me neither."


	4. Chapter 4

The remaining week of the holiday sailed by at light speed. Class rolls were distributed and Charlotte was highly surprised to see Draco Malfoy on the 5th year roster.

"If he's anything like his father, he has no love for Muggles…what's he doing in my class?"

"For someone in possession of an advanced degree, you can be amazingly obtuse," Snape said, looking up from his own paper. "No doubt his father instructed him to take the class to observe and provoke you."

"Oh. Well, he provokes and I'll provoke back – I have full power to assign detention and deduct house points. I will not be intimidated by a 5th year, no mater who his father is."

"I would advise you to treat him like any other student – and to act like any other teacher."

"Right, right, don't worry; I won't do too much damage to Slytherin's precious House Cup lead."

"Very considerate of you."

"How often does he call you all together?" Charlotte asked into the ensuing silence.

"It varies. Usually only when he has a use for us," he answered absently, making marks on his parchment.

"And do you always come back – like you did?"

"No. Sometimes I return far worse, it depends on how pleased Lord Voldemort is with my performance."

Severus could almost see the un-asked questions as they danced across Charlotte's face. In the end she said nothing. He watched her stare unseeing at the papers in front of her. She had looked so relieved to see him that morning. He had expected Poppy and her Pepper-up potion, not the girl who had impulsively grabbed his hand and sat by his side all night. "I wanted to help," she had said, her can-do American spirit rising to counter the shock of what she had seen. She really had no idea of what Voldemort was capable of – no idea what he himself had done as a Death Eater. She had seen the mark, knew, at least in part, what he was and still considered him a friend? It was laughable – Severus Snape did not have friends. He had family, colleagues, enemies but not friends. There was a Muggle school of psychoanalytical thought that suggested people who avoided friendships and other intimate relationships were afraid of getting hurt. Severus wasn't afraid – he had been hurt, he knew all about pain. There were simply very few people on this earth he considered getting to know a productive use of his time. Moreover, being a double agent presented a whole host of problems for the establishment of any relationships. If his turncoat nature were discovered by the Death Eaters, anyone Severus actually cared about would no doubt be painfully put to death before his eyes. He deserved the pain Voldemort inflicted upon him, but no one deserved death for having the lapse in good judgment to care about him. 

Malfoy had approached him before the meeting. Oh yes, he still remembered Charlotte. She had committed two unforgivable sins in Lucius' eyes, she had resisted his Imperius and she had dared talk back to him. Lucius was a patient man; when the opportunity arose he would exact his punishment. Snape had been concerned for Charlotte when Malfoy had told him his designs on the girl – wasn't that the sort of thing a friend did? He didn't really enjoy the idea of anyone at the mercy of Malfoy, but the thought of Charlotte being subjected to Malfoy's idea of punishment stopped him cold.

He glowered at his parchment. She was attractive, with bright eyes and a ready grin, but not heart-breakingly beautiful, nor was he consumed by lust – although it had been a long time since he had worked in such close quarters with an attractive young woman. _Don't be ridiculous, he thought, thoroughly disgusted with his line of thought. __She is a silly American child, the sort who considers everyone a friend, practically your student. But he had not missed the awkward, anxious look on her face after the feast…. Unhelpful mental images made being in the same room with her suddenly difficult. __I am far too old for schoolboy hormones! He walked purposefully over to the bookshelf farthest away from Charlotte and made a selection at random. It was hard work to stay focused on Miriam Saporo's __Discourse on Transitive Properties of Powdered Fungi, but somehow he managed to lose himself in the text and hardly exchanged another monosyllable with Charlotte for the rest of the evening. Once she was gone, it was easy to rationalize it away. He could not be attracted to Charlotte, it was absurd. Even if he was, what then? It was highly unlikely that she had any interest in him beyond their so-called "friendship." He did not have time to waste in foolish speculation. Men of his ilk did not fall in love with pretty girls and then live happily after. If they were lucky, men like him died in the line of duty, having in some way atoned for the misdeeds of their past. Severus fully expected to die on the receiving end of one the Unforgivables, either as a traitor to Voldemort or on the field of the final battle he knew was not long off. Each time the Dark Mark burned his skin, he wondered if it was the last time. That was enough to send his hormones back into the corner of his mind, at least for the time being. _

***

"Good afternoon to you all, and welcome to American Muggle Studies." Professor Charlotte Parnell could already tell that her last class of the day was not going to pose any problems – it was the third year class, primarily filled with round-eyed, docile Hufflepuffs. She wished she could say the same for the fifth-year class. It did boast Muggle-born Hermione Grainger who was generally regarded by her professors as one of the brightest students at the school. Countering Miss Grainger's enthusiasm were three slouched figures on the opposite side of the room: Draco Malfoy and his goons, Crabbe and Goyle. Draco was clearly less than pleased to be there, but he was quiet enough during her lesson. She suspected that would soon change, once he had got her measure. She returned her attention to the expectant third years. "How many of you are from Muggle families?" From there she went on to talk about the basic differences between English and Americans, pass around some authentic Muggle artifacts (a ball point pen, compact disc and polaroids, all from her trunk), and assign homework (three feet of parchment on 'What I hope to get out of this class and what I know about Muggles so far'). Finally the last of them went out the door. She gathered her notes and headed to the potions classroom and the other side of the teacher's podium. Snape had been doing his best to avoid her since term began, but their lessons continued regardless of his minimal participation. He hardly spoke, except to give her directions or evaluate her performance. Hogwarts became a lonely place, Celeste was the only person Charlotte spoke with on a daily basis, which was all well and good, but it was hard to take a walk or eat lunch with a painting. She still had her weekly chat with Dumbledore, and had been invited to tea with Flitwick a few times, but Charlotte knew it wasn't the same – she actually had to pay attention at staff meetings now. She had attempted to take the bull by the horns, without success.

"Are you mad at me?"

"Not currently," he replied, "but if you waste my entire supply of Milk Thistle extract, I may have to revise my opinion."

Charlotte put a stopper in the flask she held over her cauldron and flushed. "You just haven't been very talkative lately."

"Not all of us have the need to fill every waking moment with mindless chatter."

"As usual, civility is in short supply in the dungeon," she muttered acidly. She felt rather childish – he didn't have to talk to her. She was an adult, if he wasn't interested in being friends, she could deal. Contact was kept to a minimum, lessons and meal times. Unfortunately, her subconscious did not get the memo, sending nightmares that made her skin crawl or dreams that made her blood boil. Both starred the same figure, and both left her gasping for air in the middle of the night. During the day she kept her mind focused on more practical matters. She was grading papers in her classroom one afternoon when the door swung open angrily, banging against the stone wall. Snape swept into the room, robes billowing behind him.

"What sort of game to you think you're playing at?" he snapped, leaning over her desk.

"I suppose it wouldn't do any good to tell you my office hours are over for the day?" she answered, carefully setting her pen down.

"I overheard Malfoy complaining that you had given him another detention. Do you honestly think that wise?"

"Surely the infamous Professor Snape is not opposed to detention?" she asked sweetly, "You seem to hand out enough – to everyone except Slytherins. You were the one who told me to treat him like any other student. Students who don't do their homework and talk through class get detention." She paused, "Honestly, you'd think his father would have instilled some sense in him."

The Potions Master was not placated. "I suppose I should not be surprised at your levity."

"Very American of me, isn't it? I have Draco in my class, not Lucius. If Draco was stupid enough to sign up for this class, he needs to at least pretend to care about it." She leaned back in her chair and sighed. "I've had a lot of time to think recently and the thing I keep wondering is: how will it end? When we meet again Lucius will have no compunction about using an Unforgivable – if I escape, he'll find me again. It's kill or be killed. But if I kill I'm in a world of trouble not only with the Ministry, but with the Dark Lord himself for killing a loyal follower. It won't end until Malfoy and Voldemort are both dead – or I am." She swallowed hard. "It's getting tiresome waiting for the inevitable, pretending to be something I'm really not, putting up with snide comments from blond-haired children who shall remain nameless." 

"Use of an Unforgivable does not condemn you automatically to Azkaban. There would be a hearing, of course, but in a case like that…." He looked straight into her eyes, "Dumbledore would not allow you to be taken away."

            "Are you telling me to kill Malfoy?" she asked

            "I am telling you, when the time comes, you must take what steps are necessary to ensure your survival." 

***

            Her conversation with Snape had done a little to reassure her, as had the idea for a new project that might prove of some use if and when she returned to Oxford. As she perused the stacks in the library, she heard an all too familiar arrogant voice coming from nearby.

            "…my father says she's not even a real witch, Dumbledore's keeping her safe for some reason." That got Charlotte's attention and she held still, listening.

            Crabbe/Goyle, to whom this comment was no doubt addressed, muttered something suspiciously like "Muggle lover."

            "And she's been spending a lot of time with Snape as well; I mean to tell my father about that in my next letter. He has it in for Parnell, something about her getting in his way." Charlotte could almost see the boy's lips curl in an unpleasant smile, "Father doesn't like anyone in his way. I hope he lets me watch when he gets his hands on that mudblood." Draco's voice faded away as his monologue moved on to Quidditch and all the games his father had taken him to. When Charlotte peeked around the shelf the young Slytherins were at a table, pretending to study under the disapproving eye of Madam Pince. With trembling hands, Charlotte replaced the book she was holding and left the library.

            It was nearly dinner time and pupils were streaming out of doorways and down staircases towards the Great Hall. She tried to maintain a proper teacherly demeanor and gait when everything inside her ached to be away from the noise and crowd. She had little idea of where she was going, and she thought she might have bumped into a few people but she didn't pause. The further she got from the food the quieter it became. She kept moving up through the castle until she emerged at the top of the astronomy tower. Here, open to a field of stars and the cold night air, her professional mien collapsed and she leant against the frigid stone battlements and began to sob. It was all too much: a man who wanted to get her for 'getting in his way' a son who wanted her dead for the crime of giving him detention and being a mudblood (whatever that was). Lucius would be sure to ask questions about why Snape was spending time with her, which might serve to blow his cover and put his life in danger. To top it off, she was faced with the very real possibility of having to kill another human being in the future. She wanted to crawl in a hole, preferably one that was Unplottable. Strong hands detached her from the battlement and she was pulled into a warm embrace. Only when she was wrapped within the folds of someone else's cloak did she realize how cold she was. Chattering teeth vied for dominance over the sobs and won. Her tears subsided with a hiccough and a sniffle, and she leaned against the obliging chest, remembering how to breathe and inhaling the scent of herbs and spice. It could only be Snape. He was running his fingers slowly through her hair, but otherwise making no movement or sound as she calmed down. The shivering stopped and she gave a last watery sigh. Charlotte had rarely felt so secure; she didn't want it to end. But she couldn't cling to Snape forever. She looked up, unsure of what to say. The lack of space between them made her breath catch in her throat. She was amazed to see real concern peaking through his impassive mask. Charlotte gave him a weak smile. With one gentle finger he brushed the tears from her cheeks and Charlotte completely forgot how to breathe, she could only stare at him savoring the feel of skin on skin. That same gentle finger now went under her chin and tipped her head up to where his lips met hers. And then there was only him as time slid to a wonderful halt. The taste of him, the feel of his arms sliding around his waist, every detail was magnified. At last they broke apart. He pulled her in close again, tucking her head under his chin. A cold wind picked up and she shivered. 

            "Perhaps we should move somewhere warmer," he murmured into her ear, his voice making her insides turn to goo. 

            The walk was quiet, neither of them quite looking at the other as the moved through the still empty halls. He led her to into the dungeons and to his private quarters. While he redid the wards on the door, Charlotte surveyed her surroundings. His sitting room was furnished with a couple leather chairs, a low slung coffee table, a desk covered in stacks of paper and a well stocked bookshelf. It was all warm earth tones and a far cry from the imposing potions classroom. Snape lit a fire and with a wave of his wand he transformed one of the chairs into a couch. She took a seat and fidgeted, suddenly nervous and unsure. He handed her a hot mug of tea, conjured from who knows where, and sat beside her.

            "Do you want to tell me why you were in the Astronomy Tower?" he asked quietly

            She told him what she had overheard in the library. His eyes darkened, but he said nothing. "When Malfoy finds out I've been spending time with you, will you be in trouble?"

            Snape shook his head, "I will tell him the truth. Dumbledore asked me to help tutor you and to refuse him would have caused suspicion. Lucius does not know that I was the one who rescued you in Oxford, I am simply doing as I was told." He paused, "all the same, it is probably better if you traveled to your lessons by Floo from now on, so as not to attract any further attention."

            Charlotte nodded and took a deep breath. "I don't know any other way to ask this, so I'm just going to ask: what about us? Is there an 'us', or was what happened up there just an accident?"

            Severus put down his tea and sighed. "I don't know. I am not a free man, Charlotte, and I will not be until Voldemort is gone. It is not prudent for us to be involved; it would put you in too much danger."

            "Aren't I already in danger?"

            "What Lucius can do is nothing compared to what Voldemort would do. For everyone's protection it is best if I stay unencumbered."

            "Just because we aren't – anything doesn't mean I wouldn't care if anything happened to you. It's too late for that by a long shot."

            "I know," he said sadly, "but if it were suspected that I was in any way involved with a Muggle-born, my credibility among the Death Eaters would disappear. I am the only one with access to Voldemort's inner circle, performing my duty must come before my personal wishes."

            "Right then." She swallowed, "I can have Dumbledore assign me a different tutor if you'd like."

            "If you are uncomfortable working with me, I understand, but I would be happy to continue to teach you."

            "I'd like that." _I'll take what I can get. She shifted awkwardly, "I guess I'd better go. May I borrow your fireplace?"_

            "Of course."

"I do have one more question," she said, reaching for the jar of Floo powder on the mantle

He smiled down at her in a way that made her heart do back flips, "Just one?"

She grinned, "Well, for the moment. What's a mudblood?"

The smile vanished. "Where did you hear that word?" he asked coldly.

"Draco said it. I believe his exact words were 'I hope he lets me watch when he gets his hands on that mudblood' that particular mudblood being me."

            "It is a highly offensive term for someone of a non-wizarding family. To imply someone is a mudblood when they are not is a dueling matter."

            "Wow, wizard profanity. You know, when he isn't driving me up the wall in class, I actually feel sorry for Draco." She smiled at Snape's look of surprise. "Think about it, the poor kid is so prejudiced and manipulated by his father and practically a Death Eater already – not much of a life if you ask me." She shrugged. "See you later?"

            Snape nodded slowly and with a flash of green flame, she was gone.

***

            Charlotte and Snape found a curious middle ground after that night. They were talking again, and had even agreed to dispense with the formality of titles. But there was a new distance, a strain hanging in the air. He was reluctant to be close to her, to touch her in any way. She respected his wishes, having come to the conclusion that a live but unavailable Severus was better than none at all. The never spoke of what happened, but as soon as Charlotte closed her eyes at night he was back atop the Astronomy Tower wrapped in the folds of his cloak. They were careful not to be seen together except at meal times, to avoid giving Draco any further ammunition. In early February Charlotte stepped from the fireplace into Severus' sitting room to find the potions master in a horribly familiar position. He was standing at his desk cradling his left arm, his face ashen. She crossed the room in two short steps and pulled up his sleeve. Stark charcoal against his pale skin, the Dark Mark mocked her. 

            Her throat constricted. "When do you leave?" she whispered.

            "Later this evening, it amuses Voldemort to meet during the 'witching hour.'"

            "Is there anything I can do?

            He took her hand, "Stay with me." They sat entwined on the still transfigured couch until dinner time. Severus made her go eat – it would look suspicious for them both to be missing from the Great Hall. When she returned from having picked at her food, Snape was pulling a set of long black robes out of his wardrobe. 

            "Severus, do be careful," she said impulsively.

            "I wouldn't be much of a double agent if I were not," he answered with a trace of his usual sneer.

            "No, I suppose not. But humor me and be extra careful, okay."

            He paused in doing the clasps on the robe to touch her cheek. "I will. Do you intend to repeat your performance at Christmas?"

            "If necessary," she replied, hoping that it wouldn't be.

            "Then I suggest you get some rest while you can. No doubt your portrait can perform her usual look out duties. Charlotte please," he said noting her mulish look, "I would far rather you were not here when I leave."

            She sighed, "Alright." There were so many things she wanted to say, but in the end none of them were right. She tentatively stepped forward and kissed him. "Just come back to me, okay?" 

            There was someone pounding on her door, which was difficult, since she didn't have a door, she had a Celeste. She stared at her canopy listening to the banging and then realization hit her like a fleet of bludgers and she bolted out of bed. Minerva was standing behind the portrait hole with a tartan robe over her nightgown and her hair pinned up.

            "Professor Snape has returned," she said, watching Charlotte throw on her Hogwarts robe and slippers, "he is asking for you." 

            This time was not nearly as bad as the last. He was shaking only slightly and still conscious, if barely. Charlotte walked calmly with Minerva all the way to his bedside, not letting any of the swirl of emotions in her head show through.

            "Charlotte," he said breathlessly as she crouched down by his head, "I tried-"

            "Tried what Severus?"

            "Tried to convince him, but he wouldn't listen, said he wanted to-"

            "I don't understand, what are you saying?"

            He stared at her and collected himself. "In one week, in front of Voldemort and the rest of the Death Eaters, I am to deliver you to Malfoy."


	5. Chapter 5

I'd to give a special thanks to all the people who have written reviews, it means a lot! Big thanks to my star beta, Lockholm and to Innocent Ninja, Joyful Girl, and La Serenissima who have put up with me shoving new scenes down their throats and offered advice and compliments throughout the process ^_^

***

Charlotte could only gape at him, her mouth working like a fish out of water. She saw the horrified faces of Pomfrey and McGonagall and squared her shoulders. "We'll talk about it later. Right now you need to rest." He seemed inclined to protest but Charlotte stopped him with a glare. "Rest." She did not see the surprised glances the two witches above her exchanged as Severus settled down to sleep. Only after she was alone with the sleeping Snape did she let the façade slip. She leaned forward and covered her face with her hands. _I'm going to die. Malfoy's going to torture and kill me, with his son and the Dark Lord looking on. Why did I have to pick up that stupid scroll? Why did I resist the Imperio? I wish I were back at Oxford. She didn't, really. Her last few months at Hogwarts had been wonderful, but there seemed to be no way to escape Malfoy, especially now that Voldemort had taken an interest. __You're not dead yet, you know, said a small voice in her head. __Don't jump to conclusions; wait to hear the full story. This time she had the presence of mind to transfigure her chair into a more comfortable seat for her long night. It was nowhere near as bad as the last time. Severus slept peacefully, free of fever and convulsion. Charlotte was not so lucky. She just couldn't get her brain to slow down; it's increasingly graphic portrayals of her demise frightening away sleep. Poppy brought her a cup of hot chocolate, with the words "Dumbledore will know what to do, dear, don't you worry," both of which brought a small amount of comfort. __She's right. Tomorrow we'll talk to Dumbledore, he'll have a plan. That mantra, with the help of Poppy's doctored hot chocolate, relaxed her enough to sleep._

            It was only a few hours later that Charlotte and Severus, looking haggard but steady on his feet, walked into Dumbledore's office. The old wizard greeted them with a bowl of sherbet lemons, which Snape declined and Charlotte accepted.

            "How are you feeling, Severus?" he asked as the pair sat down.

            "Fine, thank you, Headmaster."

            "Are you ready to relate last night's events?" At Snape's nod, Dumbledore went to a large wooden cabinet and drew out a bowl. As he set it on the desk, Charlotte saw it was inscribed with runes and held a strange silvery liquid. "We have found that the pensieve is the best way to review a Death Eater gathering."

            "What's a pensieve?" Charlotte asked, eyeing the bowl with suspicion. 

            "It is a way of filtering and saving memories. It gives the viewer a chance to see the memory free of the corrupting influences of time and emotion." Dumbledore smiled at her, "It is perfectly safe. Severus, if you would." The professor touched the tip of his wand to his forehead. When he pulled it away, a few delicate silver strands of – something came with it. He dropped the strands into the bowl where they instantly disappeared into the liquid. "Look into the bowl, Charlotte." She bent forward, copying the movements of the others. Suddenly, she felt as if she was being pulled into the bowl. There was a spinning sensation unpleasantly like traveling by Floo, a blast of cold air, and then her rear end collided painfully with solid ground. She was sitting on a flat, grassy plain. It was full dark, but burning torches sketched a circle around her and provided enough light to see. Snape offered a hand to pull her to her feet. Dumbledore stood beside him, surveying the scene. Within the glow of the torches stood figures in long dark robes. There were ten or so when they arrived, but more were appearing every moment. 

            "They cannot hear us or see us," Severus said quietly, "we can move forward." The trio moved into the center of the circle. None of the faces in the enclave were visible, the deep hoods effectively preserved anonymity. At the top of what was becoming an elongated oval was a figure that radiated evil and malice like cheap cologne. Charlotte assumed this was the Dark Lord himself. From within his hood she could see two red eyes, but nothing else. He held up two long white hands and the circle tightened around him. 

            "My devoted followers," he said, surveying the crowd. His voice was human enough, but at the same time very alien. "Although our numbers are diminished, it is only because we have removed the weak, the disloyal. Soon we will replace their number and more. Muggles and mudbloods will once again learn to fear us!" His voice changed abruptly, becoming soft and sing song – and somehow, Charlotte thought, more dangerous. "And yet, I hear disturbing reports from my eyes and ears in the wizard world, reports of one of our number seen at the Ministry offices. What business did you have at the Ministry, Burson?" he asked, his hood turning sharply right to look at one of the figures.

            "N-nothing, my lord," came the stammered response.

            "So you were not there to offer information on our activities in return for Ministry protection?"

            "Of course not, my lord!"

            "You know how I feel about betrayal, Burson."

            "Yes my lord." The voice was defeated.

            "_Crucio__!"_

Burson dropped to the ground, writhing in pain. "Please my lord, have mercy! It was all a misunderstanding!"

"_Finite Incantatum" Voldemort ended the spell and approached the form gasping for breath. "You should know there is no protection from me," he said lazily, "__Avada__ Kedavra!"  A green light issued from Voldemort's wand and Burson lay very still. Charlotte screamed. _

"It's not real Charlotte," said Dumbledore.

"But it was!" she gasped, "It happened yesterday, and you were there," she added, pointing at Snape.

"I was there. We can react later, now we must pay attention." His voice was sharp, but she saw pity in his eyes. She nodded and forced her attention back to Voldemort. 

With a wave of his hand, he made the body disappear. "There is one other thing that has been brought to my attention. Snape, step forward." From the oval a figure approached. He kneeled and brought the hem of the Dark Lord's robe to his lips. "Malfoy has told me of a new professor at Hogwarts, Snape. An American, Charlotte Parnell."

"Yes my lord."

"She is a mudblood."

"Yes my lord."

"And yet, Malfoy tells me that you are often seen in the company of this girl."

"I have no choice, master. Dumbledore told me to supervise her acclimation to the school. To do otherwise would have caused suspicion."

"I see," he paused, "Malfoy has an interest in this girl, but the protections surrounding the school have prevented him from achieving his objectives. I would like you to bring her to us."

"Surely, my lord, we have more noble work than assuaging Malfoy's hurt pride."

"No doubt, Severus, but I grow weary of his whining. Let Lucius have his fun. Consider it a testament of your devotion to me."

"Very well, my lord, I will do as you request."

"I will call you again in a week's time, bring her with you. And Severus, do not question my wishes. _Crucio__!" The cloaked potions master fell to the ground and Voldemort disapparated. The others followed suit, not looking at their tormented companion. Charlotte felt a wrench around her middle and with a flash of silver light; they were back in Dumbledore's office. She started to reach out to Severus but pulled back. Her hands were shaking._

"Eat this, my dear." The headmaster handed her a piece of chocolate. She did as she was bid and found her hands steadied after a few bites. "Severus –" he began, sadly.

Snape forestalled him, "Please Headmaster, you have made your feelings perfectly clear. While I appreciate the sentiment, you know as well as I that this is one of our only means of access to Voldemort. You asked me to play this role and I accepted fully cognizant of the risks involved."

"I know, Severus." The older wizard sighed. "Then, the question becomes, what do we do now?"

Charlotte was shocked; she had never seen Dumbledore not in complete control of the situation. "In a week's time Sev-Professor Snape turns me over to Malfoy. His credibility is preserved and Malfoy will shut up."

"Unacceptable," said Severus and Dumbledore nodded.

"Really? One witch is not worth the loss of an information source that could save countless more." 

"Do you want to die?" Snape asked angrily, "Malfoy isn't just going to hurt you a bit. He will torture and kill you because he can."

"Of course I don't want to die! But I am not so selfish as to value my life above everyone else's," she responded, raising her voice.

"Children, please," said Dumbledore at last. The twinkle in his eye had returned as he took in their murderous glares. "Charlotte, there is no need to be so fatalistic – there is another option. The fact that Lucius brought you to Voldemort's attention indicates that this has gone beyond a simple grudge. Perhaps he would go so far as to act if an opportunity presented itself before the week was up."

Charlotte furrowed her brows, but Snape had obviously picked up the headmaster's line of thought. "Perhaps indeed. Malfoy has always been more interested in instant gratification. A chance at Professor Parnell without the intervention of Voldemort might be more than he could pass up."

"If we could catch him in the act of attempting to use an Unforgivable on an innocent witch, we could bring him to trial and remove him from Voldemort's cadre, at least temporarily." Snape and Charlotte exchanged a glance, temporarily was not the solution they had in mind.

            Charlotte thought for a moment. "We'll need somewhere away from Muggles, just in case, but not too crowded, and somewhere that I have a valid reason for visiting."

            "Hogsmeade," supplied Snape, "it meets all those criteria, but how will we make Lucius aware of the plan?"

            "Simple," said Charlotte loftily, "I'll let the information slip before class, when Draco is sure to hear it." Snape's face relaxed into something like a smile, and Charlotte found herself grinning inanely at him.

            "There is one more caveat," Dumbledore said, "it is imperative that you are not be seen, Severus. If Malfoy were to even suspect you had a hand in the plan, Voldemort would certainly have you killed. I believe we will need some added assistance with this maneuver." Snape's frown returned as he faced the headmaster, "surely you're not thinking of-"

            "They are both excellent wizards and will be glad to help." Snape grumbled and rolled his eyes, which Dumbledore ignored. "I will send an owl immediately. Once they arrive we will finish laying out the plan."

            Charlotte and Snape parted ways outside Dumbledore's office, but she hadn't been back in her room very long when there was a noise from the fireplace and a guarded voice asked, "Do you have a moment, Professor?"

            "Sure, c'mon up."  The fire flashed green and Snape stepped out of the grate. 

            "I suppose I should thank you for last night," he said abruptly, into the awkward silence.

            "Don't trouble yourself on my account," she replied, turning away.

            He sighed, "Charlotte –"

            "Do you think the plan will work?" she asked, staring at the wall. "Will Malfoy go for the bait?"

            "I don't know. But it is the only plan we have – short of your ridiculous idea of self-sacrifice."

            "Could you refrain from making a mockery of me sucking up the guts to offer to turn myself over to Malfoy?" she turned back to him, "What makes it so ridiculous? You are perfectly willing to make such a sacrifice. Every time you go to Voldemort you take your life in your hands. If he doesn't Avada Kedavra you, the Cruciatus will eventually kill you – or drive you mad."

            "There is a great deal of difference between our situations."

            Charlotte was saved the trouble of coming up with an appropriate retort by a delicate throat clearing from Celeste.

            "Sorry to interrupt but there is a group of fourth years expecting Professor Parnell in a few minutes."

            Charlotte swore. "Couldn't Voldemort at least have the decency to schedule these things on the weekend?" She stuck her tongue out at her grimacing reflection, but a couple quick charms made up for her lack of sleep. "I've got to go. I trust you can find your way back to your own fireplace." Snape turned back to the fireplace. "Severus –" she shook her head and went out the door.

***

            Dumbledore's extra help arrived under cover of darkness and were smuggled quickly into the headmaster's office. When Charlotte arrived, the new arrivals were pouring over a large map with said headmaster and Professor Snape. 

            "Ah Charlotte," said Dumbledore cheerfully, "May I present Remus Lupin and Sirius Black." She shook hands with the two men, one brown haired, one black, both lean and each looking like they had borne the cares of the world on their backs one too many times. 

            "Sirius? Weren't you the one who –"

            Black's eyes widened and he shook his head. Dumbledore stepped into the breach saying "He did escape from Azkaban, but I assure you he is innocent of all charges." Charlotte snuck a look at Snape, who was still studying the map.  She remembered seeing Sirius in the Infirmary at Christmas, why were they trying to hide that fact from Snape? The answer became apparent after five minutes in the room with the two men. Their mutual dislike voiced itself in barrage of insults and thinly veiled threats.

            Charlotte's patience was non-existent. "Could you two take your pissing contest elsewhere please? I'd like to get this plan established before morning." Black had the grace to look abashed; Snape just redirected his glare to her. 

            Lupin winked at her and pointed to the map. "Sirius and I will enter Hogsmeade through Honeyduke's. I'm guessing Malfoy will be somewhere around the Hog's Head, it's a bit seedier than the rest of the village."

            "Ostensibly I'm headed for the bookshop," said Charlotte, "If you position yourselves outside the Post Office and Honeyduke's we should have our bases covered."

            "Don't think about us," Sirius said, "Just pretend like you're doing your shopping. And don't go looking for Malfoy. If you get into trouble, send up sparks with your wand." 

            "What if Malfoy isn't there?"

            "Once you have completed your business in the village return to Hogwarts and we will devise a new plan." Dumbledore answered calmly.

            "I meet with the 5th years tomorrow. I will make sure Draco knows that I will be visiting Hogsmeade on – Thursday? That'll give him enough time to let Lucius know, should he decide to come pay me a visit."

            "Miss Grainger, may I ask you a question?" It was not quite time for class to start, but most of the students were already assembled. With a quick check to make sure Draco was paying attention, Charlotte asked Hermione about the bookstore in Hogsmeade. "Since I don't have any classes on Thursday I thought I might go into the village to look for some materials for a project I'm working on. I haven't been there before and I hoped you might be able to give some recommendations." Hermione was only too happy to help and gave her the quick overview of the merits of Flourish & Blotts' Hogsmeade location. Asking the girl about the shop's hours gave her an opening to say, "I figured I'd go down there early and get it taken care of. Thanks Miss Grainger, you've been most helpful." Out of the corner of her eye Charlotte saw Draco scribbling surreptitiously on a piece of parchment. _The bait has been taken, on to phase two._

            Thursday morning dawned bright and cold. Charlotte had hardly slept the night before, her overactive imagination taking her places she would have just as soon not been. Snape was sitting in a chair watching her transfigure her Hogwarts robe into a heavy cloak. 

            "Are you nervous?" he asked.

            "Nervous, me?" she laughed weakly, "Of course not. I go to town, pretend to shop, catch Malfoy in the act of trying to kill me and go home. It's fool-proof."

            "This is fortunate, since we are surrounded by fools." His voice was at its driest.

            "No love lost between you Sirius, eh?" 

            "It is a long story."

            "You'll just have to tell me when this is all over." She did the clasp on the cloak and tucked her wand into her pocket. "Alright," she said, taking a deep breath, "off I go."  

            Snape stood and placed his hands on her shoulders. "I believe the phrase is 'just come back to me, okay?'" 

            Charlotte walked slowly around the lake towards the village trying to maintain the appearance of a young witch out to do some shopping. She had read somewhere that Hogsmeade was the only village exclusively populated by magic folk in the United Kingdom.  She wished she were just going to explore. On the outside, it looked almost like any small English settlement. She peeked in the windows at Honeyduke's and Zonko's before going into Flourish and Blotts. Looking in the Muggle Studies section she felt an itchy twinge in her neck, like someone was watching her. She looked around but saw no one. It made her want to laugh, that feeling watched would reassure her. _Consider the alternative, she thought, __I'd rather face Malfoy in a bookshop than surrounded Voldemort and his cronies. She continued perusing the shelves, eventually finding a few texts of interest. Charlotte paid for her books and arranged to have them owled back to the school. Leaving Flourish and Blotts she walked up to Galdrags and looked at the latest in dress robes. __I'll peek in at Dervish and Banges and then head back. The wizard equipment shop was at the far end of High Street, nearly the last thing of interest in the village. She was nearly there when the hairs on the back of her neck began to prickle. Something moved out of the corner of her eye. She looked down the alley beside the repair shop, or perhaps it was a doctor's office (Cunigunde's Magical Mishaps Mended) and saw an ominously familiar robed figure._

            "Professor Parnell," he purred in a voice that could only belong to Lucius Malfoy, "It is a pleasure to see you again."

            Charlotte quickly took in the two other forms lurking in the shadows and sneered at Lucius, "You just refuse to fight fair, don't you Malfoy?" and she raised her wand.

            Remus and Sirius saw the shower of red sparks explode over High Street and took off at a run. Black had shifted to his dog form upon their arrival in the village for his own safety and reached the alley several steps ahead of his friend. Two large figures in black robes had Charlotte's arms pinned to her sides while a third figure examined her wand. 

            "You don't seem to command much of a cavalry, Professor," Malfoy laughed. "But time is short, and we have much to discuss." Sirius reared back to leap, but at a signal from Malfoy the trio disapparated, taking Charlotte with them. The large dog landed on the ground, not on Lucius' neck as he had hoped. Remus arrived in time to see Sirius resume his human form.

            "They've taken her. Three of them, Malfoy was one of them, I heard him." 

            "Where would they have gone?" Remus asked into the empty space beside him. 

            A floating hand appeared and pulled back a piece of invisible cloth to reveal Severus, grim and ashen. "There is only one place – Chateau Malfoy."


	6. Chapter 6

Part 6 is the final chapter of Sought. But fear not, I am not done with the intrepid Charlotte. Please stay tuned and spread the word, I love having people read my fic (and review of course ^_^). Thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far, thanks also to my beta, Lockholm and the long suffering KungFooGirl, LaSerenissima, JoyfulGirl and Snake (who knows who he is). Enjoy!

It was far too late to be scared. They had materialized beside a large house, a mansion really, all white stone and ionic columns. Malfoy tapped a brick with his wand and the stones formed a door that swung inward. She was carried inside, through a dark tunnel, up a short flight of steps and into a small grey room. Malfoy's goons shoved her against the wall and a coil of rope began to bind her wrists and ankles to conveniently placed iron loops in the stone. Lucius dismissed his assistants with a sharp command; Charlotte couldn't tell if they were disappointed or relieved. Lucius shrugged out of his black robes, revealing a white, flowing poet's shirt underneath. While he bound back his hair with ribbon, Charlotte looked around the room. There were two doors, the one they had come in by and another at the opposite side of the room the presumably led into the house itself. Metal shelves lined the wall in front of her and were filled with bottles and jars, some of whose contents she recognized from the potions stores at Hogwarts. A small cauldron and similar equipment were arranged carefully on a desk, the room seemed to serve a dual function as torture chamber and workspace. No, she was not scared, she was frozen. Her brain refused to move from the inescapable fact that she was going to die in a most painful and unpleasant way at the hands of an obsessive bigot. _Think girl, think! What have you been training for these last few months? Okay, two ways out – one of them definitely warded. Bound with magical ropes, wand – she watched Malfoy set the wand down beside the cauldron – __out of reach. Not good. Stay calm Charlotte, an opportunity will present itself. At least you know he's not going to kill you right away, that gives you time. We'll play his game, for now. Lucius appeared satisfied with his appearance and turned his attentions to his captive._

            "How good of you to join me, Professor," he purred, emphasizing the last word. "I have been most interested in seeing you again; I have so many questions to ask you."

            "Well, get on with it then," she responded in what she hoped was a flippant tone, "I've got things to do, papers to grade."

            "Ah, but what guarantee do I have that you'll tell me the truth? I suppose I could always administer Veritaserum, but that is so –" he searched for the right word, "inelegant. And I have far more interesting ways to persuade you to tell me what I want to know." With a wave of his wand he slashed through her heavy cloak and sweater from wrist to shoulder, exposing her skin to the cool air of the room. He selected a jar from the shelf and tapped it with his wand. Very carefully he allowed a single drop to fall on the inside of her forearm above the elbow. The nerve endings in her arm fired immediately and Charlotte gave a hiss of pain as she watched the drop move down her arm leaving a violent red trail behind. "It's an acid of my own devising," Lucius said conversationally, staring intently at her arm. "It will eat through bone and will travel in a straight line independent of gravity – to say nothing of the pain it can cause," he added with a cruel smile. "Now, why has Dumbledore taken such and interest in you?"

            Charlotte felt every millimeter of the acid's slow progression down her arm, like a white-hot poker raked across her skin. "Dumbledore is a good man who doesn't judge people based on their background."

            "A very touching sentiment but, I think, inaccurate. The person I encountered in Oxford was no witch. And while you have acquired the trappings of one," he sneered at her robes and wand, "you are still no witch – not even a filthy mudblood – no more than a common Muggle."

            "You're wrong Malfoy; I stopped being a Muggle the moment I picked up my wand." Her throat tightened as she echoed Snape's words in the quidditch stands. "I'd think you'd rather think of me that way," she continued boldly, "What a terrible thing to be bested by a Muggle."

            Lucius laughed, "One battle does not make a war, Professor. I believe I will have the final win." He placed another drop on her wrist and Charlotte screamed. 

            "Who rescued you in Oxford that day?" he asked, clearly enjoying her pain.

            "I don't know," she gasped. There was a knock at the interior door and it swung open. A trembling house elf stepped into the room

            "How many times have I told you I am never to be disturbed in this room?" Lucius spat at the creature.

            "Moggy is sorry, Master. There is a visitor for Master."

            "Tell them I'm not here, you fool!"

            "Master, it is Professor Snape, sir. He said it was very important." Charlotte fought to keep her pain-riddled face intact when her heart longed to jump from her chest and tap dance on Malfoy's head. He was clearly torn, but with a muffled curse and a swift kick to Moggy's side Lucius stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Charlotte noticed after a moment that Lucius had exerted so much force on the door that it had not caught properly and now stood slightly ajar. 

***

            By the time Lucius greeted Snape in the parlor his usual cool affability was back in place. "Severus, my friend, what do I owe the honor of this visit?"

            "I am concerned about Draco, Lucius."

            "Draco?" Malfoy echoed, perplexed.

            Snape nodded. "His schoolwork has fallen off of late – perhaps even beyond what I can salvage," he added meaningfully.

            "Well, I will certainly speak to the boy. Thank you for your concern Severus, but I'm afraid I have something I must attend to."

            "Lucius," Snape said calmly, "I don't think you appreciate the gravity of the situation. His potions grade is assured; transfiguration and charms are less secure. He needs those classes to advance with his peers. As for American Muggle Studies-"

            Malfoy held up a hand. "I do not think Muggle Studies will be a problem."

            "He will still be enrolled in the class even after his lordship turns Professor Parnell over to you." Severus' keen eyes saw Lucius blanch slightly and swallow. Apparently the ramifications of taking advantage of the opportunity presented by Charlotte's trip to Hogsmeade had not fully occurred to Lucius. He suppressed his desire to roll his eyes; it was hard for Snape to believe that he had ever respected the man before him. But it would not do to become unfocused. He had to stall Malfoy for as long as possible.

            She didn't imagine that the Crutacius curse could be any more painful than the acid burning through her skin. Her eyes were watering, but she would not let Malfoy see her crying. The door opened slowly and Charlotte tensed, expecting the worst. But there was no Lucius, no Moggy, no one at all. In the blink of an eye Remus and Sirius were before her.

            "What do you think of your cavalry now?" Black grinned, folding the invisibility cloak.

            She gasped, "Thank Merlin! Get me out of these ropes!" Sirius stood watch at the door while Lupin removed the charm on the rope. The coils lost their iron grip and Charlotte lowered her arms gratefully. 

            "Now we've got to get you out of here," said Remus.

            "There's another door down those stairs, but it's warded in some way – keyed to Malfoy's wand."

            Remus nodded, "We'll have to go back the way we came."

            "Here he comes!" Sirius suddenly exclaimed.

            "Quick! Get under the cloak and hide in the tunnel," Charlotte said, pushing Lupin towards the stairs. She returned to the wall and slid her hands back into the rope restraints, trying to make them appear tight against her skin.

Lucius strode into the room, his cruel smile firmly in place. He examined the state of her arm with satisfaction. "Now then, back to more pleasant business," he purred.

"Actually, Lucius, there's been a change of plan." With one swift move she pulled her arm free of the ropes and connected her fist solidly with Malfoy's nose. He bent double, cradling his face with his hands and she sprang away from the wall grabbing her wand from the desk. Malfoy started towards her, face bloody and contorted with rage. Charlotte was ready, shouting _Stupefy with such vehemence that Malfoy was flung backwards across the room and down the stairs._

"He's unconscious," came Remus' voice from the tunnel

"And then some," added Sirius, "but still alive."

"Okay," answered Charlotte, staring at her trembling wand hand, "I think I'm going to faint now."

Both men bounded up the stairs and Lupin pressed a piece of chocolate into her hand. "Not yet Charlotte, we still have to get out of here."

"If she rides on my back, I think we'll all fit under the cloak."

"On your – oh." Charlotte stared at the black dog where Sirius had been. She straddled Black as she would a horse and Lupin draped the cloth over them. Very slowly they made their way out of Chateau Malfoy. Charlotte remembered very little of the journey, slipping in an out of consciousness as they traveled, a combination of pain and shock. When she saw Hogwarts beyond the lake she felt a measure of strength return. She was safe at Hogwarts. 

Sirius helpfully carried her until they reached the hallway before the great phoenix statue that guarded Dumbledore's office. Standing there was the black robed figure she knew so well. With a cry she slid off her mount and half-ran, half-stumbled into his arms. Her eyes filled with tears as she felt his warm body close around her and inhaled the scent of him. She was safe, she was home. They said nothing, they didn't need to. Lupin and Black approached more slowly, ill concealed shock on their faces. 

Snape released his hold on Charlotte and looked sternly at the two men. "Listen well gentlemen, you will not hear these words pass my lips again." His eyes rested on Charlotte and his expression softened, "thank you." Remus and Sirius exchanged startled glances which transformed into bright smiles.

"Do invite us to the wedding," said the irrepressible Sirius. 

Snape and Charlotte both cringed, but it was Charlotte who replied, "Shut up, Black."

Severus favored her with a half smile. "The headmaster is expecting us."

"Actually," said Charlotte, swaying slightly, "I think I should go to the infirmary first."  And at last she mercifully fainted.

***

_I have got to stop making a habit of waking up here, was her first thought opening her eyes in the infirmary. Her second was that someone was holding her hand. She smiled when she saw the figure beside the bed watching her intently._

"Severus."

"I believe we have our roles reversed," he said archly.

"I think we've both spent too much time here." She looked at her other arm. It was wrapped in bandages but pain free.

His eyes darkened. "What happened?"

"Malfoy of course." She told him about the acid, the rescue, punching Lucius, "It felt really good, you should try it sometime" and what she remembered of their escape.

"The house elves alerted the authorities and Malfoy was transported to St. Mungo's. He is as yet still alive. Dumbledore and some members of the Ministry believe that this may be enough to send Lucius to Azkaban." 

"Have you heard from Voldemort?"

"Not yet – but it won't be long. Lucius is one of his most loyal and best connected followers. Imprisoning him should curtail Voldemort's activities, at least temporarily." He paused, "you will have to testify at the hearing."

She nodded. "This isn't really over yet, is it?" she asked softly.

"I wish I could tell you otherwise, but no. It will not be over until Voldemort is dead."

"If we do get Malfoy shipped off to prison, I'd say I've earned a place on the Dark Lord's hit list," she sighed. "Will anyone suspect you had a hand in my escape?" 

"I think not. The only people who might suspect are the house elves, but their loyalty extends no further than the bounds of their servitude. You were the one who punched Malfoy, the one who Stupefied him. I would imagine the bulk of the blame will rest on your shoulders."

"Yay." Poppy came by, checked on her bandages and pronounced Charlotte discharged, although the mediwitch commanded her to report back the next day to see how her arm was healing. They walked slowly to Charlotte's room, saying little. As soon as Celeste caught sight of them she let out a shriek louder than any portrait had a right to be.

"Charlotte I was so worried about you! When you didn't come back, and then I heard you were in the infirmary, I assumed – all the most awful things." The girl looked like she was going to cry.

"It's alright Celeste, I'm only marginally the worse for wear," Charlotte consoled, holding up her bandaged arm. "We'll talk more later, I promise." Celeste nodded and swung open for them to enter the room. 

The portrait had hardly closed when the fire in the hearth turned green and a voice called, "Charlotte, it's Albus, may I join you?" At her assent, the headmaster stepped out of the fire.

"Ah, Severus, good," were the old wizard's first words. His tone indicated that he was not at all surprised to see the potions master. "How are you feeling, Charlotte?"

"Fine sir, thank you."

"I have spoken with the Ministry. A hearing will be held once Malfoy has recovered. He is under twenty-four hour guard at the hospital and will remain there until the hearing."

"So the question is what do I do now? Well, I'm here through the end of the school year, but what then? Going back to English Lit just doesn't have the appeal it used to," she said with a weak grin. "I want to continue learning about wizardry, but I'm obviously not done with Malfoy and Voldemort yet."

"If you are interested," began Dumbledore, "I could speak with my old friend Lisbet Scolere. She is head of Sortilege College at Oxford. I'm sure a transfer could be arranged from New."

"Is Sortilege a wizarding college then?"

"Indeed. They are known to be slightly more modern than their colleagues at Cambridge. Shall I contact her?"

Charlotte looked at Severus, who inclined his head as if to say, _go on. "I'd like that sir, thank you." _

Dumbledore, on whom the silent exchange had not gone unnoticed, smiled. "I must insist that you remain with us at Hogwarts until we can make suitable arrangements elsewhere." Charlotte nodded happily and the headmaster stood. "I am glad to have you back, Charlotte," he said and stepped back into the fire. Charlotte dropped into the plush couch by the hearth.

"Looks like you'll be stuck with me for a while," she said as he sat down beside her.

"An unfortunate necessity," he rejoined, "but we must all make sacrifices for the greater good."

"How noble of you," she murmured as he pressed his lips to hers. After a moment she broke contact. "But is it wise for you to be involved with a mudblood, and an American at that?"

Severus sighed and sat back. "Not publicly, no. If I am to maintain my status among the Death Eaters it would be best for me to actively dislike you." He paused and his lips twitched, "But I find I am unable to do that. You know that my work for Dumbledore must come before any personal wishes. If you would rather search for a more suitable target for your affections, I certainly understand."

Charlotte laughed, hardly the reaction he had expected. "I'm hardly a prize catch now myself. Anyone involved with me is a potential target for Malfoy and company. I'd say we're a pretty good match, don't you?" He made his agreement known with a kiss that turned her insides to slush.  

            "I have no gift for the florid turn of phrase," he began, taking her hand. "but over the past few months you have managed to worm your way under my skin so successfully that I find it hard to imagine what I would do if you were not around." 

            She smiled brightly. "I'm fond of you too, Severus," she replied. After a pause she added, "I'm glad you ran into me that day in Queen's Lane."

            Severus decided it was best not to mention that she had clearly been in his way and simply said, "I am too." 


	7. Plug!

Shameless Plug Time!

The adventures of Charlotte and Severus continue in 'An Elegant Magic' (http://www.fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=1146929) Please take a look!

aquaesulis  


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